Harry Potter and the Chamber of Cliché
by Emma Kathryn
Summary: Stumbling onto a secret entrance outside of Charms class, Harry is transported to an underground chamber and shown several of the most common FanFiction clichés. Story two, Ch. 1-2 up now! There's a Valentine's Ball, but who will go with who???
1. STORY ONE The Trouble With Mary 1

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STORY ONE

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The Trouble With Mary

Chapter 1

His head spinning slightly from the transition, Harry looked curiously around him. I must've been knocked out, he thought. It's the end of the day.

The Common Room was crowded and noisy. Harry was sitting beside Ron, who was making a card-castle, and Hermione, who was bent over a very thick textbook with a look of intense concentration on her face. Harry himself was holding a quill with a scroll of parchment set in front of him. On it was the beginning of an essay regarding Knowledge Potions – the very essay that was due day after tomorrow in Professor Snape's class.

Harry turned to Ron, very confused. "How'd I get here?" he asked in an undertone. "What's going on?"

Ron gave him a blank look. "You've been here all evening, with me," he said with raised eyebrow. "What d'you mean, how'd you get here?"

"I must've blacked out a minute," Harry said. "Or fallen asleep, or something…"

"Yeah," said Ron, placing a card on top of his castle. "Look! It isn't falling. Where were you this morning?"

Harry thought a moment, and then memories of the cold dungeon room returned to him. "I dunno," he said. "I think I fell asleep or something. I had a really weird dream. I dreamed I was in this room, like a dungeon –," he stopped, for Ron, intent on his castle, seemed uninterested in the dream.

"Oh," was all he said. "You must be tired."

"Yeah," said Harry dubiously. "I guess I'll go up to bed after this essay."

For the next three-quarters-of-an-hour, he concentrated as hard as possible on Knowledge Potions, wishing he had one right then to help him along. "Hermione, how long does it take to make a Knowledge Potion?" he asked in desperation near the end.

Hermione looked at him severely over the top of her textbook. "I'm not going to do your homework for you," she snapped. "It's not my fault if you don't pay attention in Potions."

"Aw, come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded, stifling a yawn.

Hermione sighed and thought a moment. "Forty-three point nine minutes," she answered. "If you do it correctly, that is."

Harry scribbled down the time, wrote a hasty concluding paragraph, and then tossed the pen onto the desk with a hearty sigh. "Well, _that's_ done with," he said in satisfaction.

"Go to bed," Ron said, staring in concentration at the final card he was laying atop his castle. 

"Not a bad idea," Harry admitted, stifling another yawn. "Maybe I'll stay awake better tomorrow…"

Replacing the essay, quill, and ink into his schoolbag, Harry said goodnight to his friends and headed up to the dormitory. He fell asleep quickly, more tired even than he had realized, and had a dreamless night.

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The next day progressed normally. In Potions class – the first of the day – Snape, in an especially vindictive mood, deducted fifteen points from Gryffindor for each Harry and Ron, who had accidentally spilled a drop of their Knowledge Potion. The entire class was torn between terror and excitement as a small section of the floor began to recite the twelve Minor Charms in a slightly nasal voice, until a furious Snape hurried over with a counter-potion and cut the recitation short. 

By dinnertime, Harry – who had had only a light lunch, due to a surprise Quidditch practice – was famished. He hurried into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, only to find the Hall in an uproar even more violent than usual. Many of the students were standing on the benches, craning their necks to see toward the staff table and the cause of the commotion. Nearly deafened by the noise level, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found seats at the Gryffindor table near Lee Jordan, who seemed oblivious to the melee raging around him.

"What's up?" Harry asked curiously, leaning back to try and see around a clustered group of seventh-years all talking excitedly. 

"New student," said Lee shortly. "Crazy, she's sitting up there at the staff table, but she couldn't be more than a third year."

Before Harry could reply, he saw the top of Dumbledore's pointed hat rise above the throng of students. Gradually, the conversation died down, and the black-robed students resumed their seats somewhat shamefacedly. 

"Please, begin your dinner," said the Headmaster, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "What I have to say can be said as well over a meal as not."

Obligingly, the plates on the tables filled with food, and most of the students began eating. After the initial clanging of silverware and chinking of glasses had subsided, Dumbledore continued his address.

"We have with us tonight a special guest. She is an exchange student from America, and will attend Hogwarts School for the next three months. I am proud to introduce, Mary Sue Smith."

For the first time, Harry caught a glimpse of the source of the commotion. Blushing slightly, a girl came from the end of the staff table to stand next to Dumbledore. She was one of the most stunningly beautiful girls Harry had ever seen; he felt his jaw go slack, and noticed that he was not the only one. 

Her hair, golden-blonde, hung past her waist in a sheet of shimmering brilliance. Her features were delicate and exquisite, as though she were a very fine porcelain doll. Harry realized he was holding his breath, waiting for the girl to speak.

But instead, it was Dumbledore who resumed his speech. "Though it is not the general procedure, Mary Sue will be sorted tonight. As she is the only student, she will be the only one. Professor Flitwick – the Sorting Hat, if you please?"

Flitwick jumped excitedly from his chair, holding the dilapidated Sorting Hat with both hands. He hurried quickly to Dumbledore, who took the Sorting Hat and placed it on Mary Sue's head.

There was a long pause. Underneath the brim of the hat, Mary Sue had gone slightly pale – a state, Harry observed, which only served to enhance her finely crafted face.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat called, startling Harry back into reality. Beaming, Mary Sue allowed Dumbledore to remove the Sorting Hat from her head before walking gracefully to the Gryffindor table. Harry scooted away from Hermione and bumped into Ron in his haste to clear a seat for the pretty exchange student. To his delight, Mary Sue headed toward the seat he had just freed as if she had meant to go there all along.

"Is it all right if I sit here?" she asked, her slightly accented voice like silver chimes. 

His eyes wide, Harry nodded mutely. Hermione scowled pointedly at him, but he ignored her as the blonde beauty sat down beside him, flicking her golden hair out of her way with one white, manicured hand. 

As soon as she had served herself from the platters all along the table, Mary Sue began to speak. Harry, his eyes fixed on her face, picked distractedly at his crescent roll as Mary Sue described her life in America, her delight at being chosen to come to Hogwarts, and her strong desire to meet the famous Harry Potter during her three-month sojourn.

At this, Hermione gave a snort, and Harry realized that Mary Sue had not once glanced at any of them since she sat down. "Oh," was all Harry could say, very nonplussed. Mary Sue glanced up at him, smiling coquettishly. As she looked at him, however, her eyes grew round in surprise.

"Are you – you aren't –," she said prettily.

"Actually, I am," Harry replied, reddening. "I mean, I…" he stopped, aware suddenly that Hermione was giggling at him from behind her hand.

"Are you _Harry Potter?_" Mary Sue asked, her eyes very wide.

Harry nodded and ducked his head.

The girl gave a little cry of surprise, and then smiled. "What an amazing place this is!" she said after an appropriate recovery period. "I feel so honored to be here – why, already I've met a legend!"

"Yeah?" said Ron from behind Harry, leaning around him to better see Mary Sue. "I'm Ron Weasley. My dad works in the Ministry of Magic."

"The real Ministry of Magic, here in England?" Mary Sue asked excitedly. "How amazing! In America, we do not have a Ministry. We have a Magical Senate to govern the wizarding world. It can get quite confusing, with so many people running for office every few years."

"Yeah," said Ron again.

"And you must be Hermione Granger," said Mary Sue, turning to Hermione. 

"Guilty as charged," Hermione replied. "But if I may ask, how did you know?"

Mary Sue delivered a chime-like laugh. "Oh, _everyone_ knows of Harry Potter and his two best friends. You're top in all your classes, aren't you, Hermione? It will be lovely to have some competition at last. I've never really had a rival before, at my school in America."

"Hmm," said Hermione, shooting Harry a look he couldn't quite interpret. 

Mary Sue turned back to Harry and Ron, her hair glimmering in the candlelight. "This castle is so enthralling," she said rapturously. "We have nothing like it in America – no castles outside of Disney World."

"What?" said Ron, flabbergasted.

"It's a Muggle fun park," Harry muttered. 

"Our school has a building all its own," Mary Sue continued. "It's very modern – we even have electric lights in many of the rooms. But the feeling here is so quaint! I shall be quite sad to go back to America at the end of my exchange."

"Maybe you could stay!" Ron said excitedly.

Mary Sue laughed again, her cheeks dimpling. "I wish I could," she said, "But my family is in America, of course, and I could never leave them."

Ron reddened and turned back to his plate.

The evening concluded much sooner than Harry would have liked – it seemed that only a moment after Mary Sue Smith had taken a seat beside him, he was up in his dormitory bed, nearly asleep. Across the room, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were talking in excited whispers.

"She was gorgeous, really beautiful . . ."

"And she's in Gryffindor too!"

"I can't wait to get to know her . . ."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had a comment that Mary Sue didn't seem "American" enough. As will be disclosed later, Mary Sue's not your average California babe, she's from a very RICH family, hence her mannerisms. Yes, there IS a reason for this.


	2. 2

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TWO

The next day, Harry awoke to find that he was alone in the dormitory but for Neville, who was still asleep. Dressing quickly, he sprinted down the stairs to the common room and found most of the Gryffindors awake and crowded around Mary Sue Smith, hurling questions at her from all directions.

"Where in America did you live?"

"Was it cool?"

"Is England better?"

"I'll bet you were top of your class!"

"Have you always known about magic?"

"Do you play Quidditch?"

"What year are you?"

Mary Sue sat in a large armchair near the fire, smiling and patiently responding to all of the questions. Harry saw Ron and Hermione, sitting near to her, and hurried over to them.

"What's going on?" he muttered.

Hermione laughed. "It's obvious!" she said. "Everyone's curious about her. After all, she's from Abroad."

"Mm," said Harry. Suddenly Mary Sue looked up from her eager questioners and saw Harry.

"Harry!" she cried. "Good morning!" She smiled again, her sky-blue eyes shining.

Harry blushed and looked at his feet. "Yeah," he muttered.

At that moment, Percy Weasley strode down the stairs and into the Common Room. "What are you _doing?_" he asked incredulously of no one in particular. "Everyone, go down to breakfast!" He opened his mouth to continue his irritable tirade, but stopped as he saw Mary Sue.

"Oh," he said, deflating. "Good morning. Are you enjoying Hogwarts?"

Mary Sue shot him a smile and nodded, her blonde hair swishing slightly. "It's lovely," she said with a laugh. "Not one bit like Benel's."

"Benel's?" Harry whispered quizzically to Ron, who answered without taking his eyes off of Mary Sue's face.

"Her school in America."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Well then," Percy was saying a bit distractedly, "Let's all go down to breakfast, shall we?"

Immediately, Mary Sue rose and followed Percy out of the portrait hole. Not waiting to see whether Ron and Hermione were coming, Harry pushed through the students and exited the Common Room as well, hurrying down the hall. He was not alone – it seemed that most of the Gryffindor students had had the same idea.

They entered the Great Hall as a body, and sat down at the Gryffindor table. To his intense delight, Mary Sue chose a seat near Harry again. "I should sit by someone I know," she laughed. "This place is so big, I'll never find my way around!"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out," Percy said airily from across the table. He seemed to have recovered from the incident in the Common Room and was dishing himself some porridge. "It's not so hard, really, once you understand it." He took a handful of robe and polished his Prefect badge conspicuously. 

"I hope so," said Mary Sue, her eyes very round and sincere. 

"Just watch out for the staircases," said Harry, eager to be a part of the conversation.

Mary Sue's bell-like laugh pealed through the Great Hall. "The staircases?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," said Harry, blushing. "They – er – they move."

Mary Sue smiled at him and turned back to her juice. "I'll be careful," she said.

"Er – what year are you?" Harry asked after a moment, realizing he didn't know.

"Third," Mary Sue replied.

"Great!" said Harry excitedly. "So are we – I mean, so am I."

"Good," said Mary Sue with another laugh. "Maybe I won't get so lost after all!"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Um – er – feel free to, uh, ask for help."

Mary Sue laughed yet again. "I'm sure I'll need it!"

"I don't know about that," Harry replied sincerely.

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In double Charms (with Ravenclaw), the first class of the day, Mary Sue took a seat in front of Harry. Ron quickly scrambled for the next desk over, while Hermione took the seat behind him. The class settled noisily into their desks and then waited for the lesson to begin.

Tiny Professor Flitwick cleared his throat before beginning his lecture on Curing Charms. A quarter of an hour later, he said that they were ready to test their expertise, and asked for a few volunteers. Harry and Ron – along with most of the boys in the class – raised their hands quickly.

"I only need six of you," said Flitwick, a little dazed by the reaction. When no hands went down, he selected Ron, Harry, Seamus Finnigan, and three boys from Ravenclaw Harry didn't know. They proceeded to try the Curing Charm on Flitwick ("I have been possessed of a head cold," he told them) for the next half of class. Harry's and Ron's went tolerably well (though Harry's spell left the Professor with a twitch over one eye), as did the rest. The class was then given leave to try the spell on each other ("Although", said Flitwick, "It will be difficult, as not everyone is ill.") until it was time for their next class.

"That was fascinating," said Mary Sue enthusiastically as they exited the room. "Much more interesting than what they teach at home."

"Yeah," said Harry, suddenly developing a fondness for Curing Charms.

Double Herbology with Hufflepuff was next, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione led Mary Sue over the frigid grounds toward Greenhouse Four. The lesson was more complicated than it was wont to be – they were obliged to pull the Venemous Hilengars into small, tailor-made jackets to keep them from catching cold. Though the Hilengars were sluggish in the winter, it was still a trick to watch out for their spiny tentacles, and the entire class was thoroughly worn out by the end of the class. Only Mary Sue seemed as buoyant as ever, and asked Hermione excitedly what was next.

"_Potions,_" Hermione said in disgust, reading off her course schedule. "Brace yourself."

Mary Sue giggled and followed the others as they trooped back into the Entrance Hall, removing cloaks and scarves and stamping snow from their shoes. 

"So, Mary Sue," Hermione asked as they made their way to Snape's dungeon. "What's school like in America?"

"It's very different," said Mary Sue with a smile. "In America, we have many schools of magic across the country, but they are all much smaller than this. Benel's is a Private Academy in New York. It's really exclusive."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, without the faintest hint of pride. 

"Hogwarts is pretty exclusive too," said Ron helpfully from behind them. "I mean, not all wizards and witches get letters."

Mary Sue laughed. "Oh, I know," she said. "I'm incredibly lucky to be here!"

"I didn't mean that," Ron muttered, his ears turning scarlet. 

"Oh, but I am," said Mary Sue, looking over her shoulder at Ron. Her eyes were very round. "It was a strictly one-student exchange."

"Yeah, but with your grades…" Harry stopped, not sure what he meant to say.

"Oh yes," said Mary Sue seriously, "But it's still amazing to me that I'm here at all!"

They walked into Snape's dungeon and sat down at a table together. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas hurried over to the next table, scrambling to sit the nearest to Mary Sue. 

A moment after Snape had instructed the class to open their books to page one thousand seventy-three, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle slid into the dungeon. Without looking around, they took a table at the opposite end of the room from Harry, among the Slytherins.

"Settle down," Snape said mildly, and continued with his instructions. Five minutes later, they were told to begin concocting a Deafening Draught – "But do not let any of it spill!" Snape told them fiercely. 

Harry set to work at a cauldron with Ron, but before Hermione and Mary Sue could begin their own Deafening Draught Neville Longbottom rushed into the dungeon, very pale. "S-sorry I'm l-late, Professor," he stuttered, and sank into a misplaced chair at Harry's table.

Snape moved menacingly toward the frightened Neville. "You're late, Longbottom," he hissed. "Twelve points from Gryffindor. And that table has too many people," he added, staring at Harry accusingly. "Potter, go sit over there." He motioned toward the table where Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sat sniggering.

"But Professor, I've already started my potion," Harry said, gesturing toward the cheerfully bubbling cauldron.

"I'll go, Professor," said another voice. Mary Sue stood up, collecting her textbook. "I mean, really, it's not very much trouble. I've not started my potion yet."

"Mary Sue!" Hermione whispered. "You don't want to do that, trust me…"

Snape looked at Mary Sue for a long moment, and then nodded, his face inscrutable. He spun swiftly on his heel and resumed his position at the front of the dungeon.

Making as if to pick up her bag, Mary Sue leaned down and whispered to Hermione, "You help Neville. He needs it." Throwing a compassionate glance at Neville, who sat pale-faced and trembling in the extra chair, she straightened and made her way across the dungeon to Malfoy's table.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm by no means making any kind of hint that Mary Sue is going to go pair off with Malfoy. This is just a way to show her compassionate nature and her willingness to give everyone a chance. I mean hey, she's perfect, okay? ;-) Next chapter coming soon.


	3. Prologue

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PROLOGUE

Breakfast that morning in the Great Hall was noisy, as usual. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of an empty seat, waiting for Harry to join them. As they'd walked down to the Hall that morning, Ron had pointed out the absence of Harry's hat, which feature Harry sprinted back to receive. But he still had not returned.

"If he doesn't come soon, he's going to miss breakfast," said Hermione worriedly as she looked around the rapidly emptying Great Hall. 

Ron said something that sounded like "Opporing, Er-my-knee" as he took another bite out of his toast.

"What?" Hermione asked distractedly, her eyes fixed on the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I said, stop worrying, Hermione," Ron repeated after a moment. "He'll get here."

"I guess so," said Hermione, turning back to her half-eaten breakfast.

---------------------------------------------

After tearing his dormitory apart for his hat, Harry had finally remembered leaving it in the Common Room. Taking the steps two at a time, he ran downstairs, grabbed his hat, and slid out of the portrait hole. He sprinted down the hallway – faster than he'd ever run before, he was sure – until he bumped into a Prefect he hadn't seen before. Deep disapproval etched into the older student's face, Harry was given a severe reprimand and told to get to his class. Dispiritedly, Harry changed direction and headed toward Transfiguration just as his stomach gave a loud rumble.

He hoped to meet up somewhere with Ron and Hermione, but the halls seemed strangely deserted as he made his way toward Professor McGonagall's room. Funny, he thought, Where are all the students this morning?

As he passed the door into the Charms class, he felt something small and hard hit him between the shoulder blades. Spinning around angrily, he watched as Peeves zoomed away down the hall, cackling gleefully. Harry picked up the missile, but before he could take a good look at it it had flown from his fingers, buzzing loudly. Curious now, and already late, Harry jumped after it. Buzzing still more violently, the object whizzed toward the roof and Harry fell against the wall with a crash. He threw his arm up to steady himself, and was startled as it slid sideways off the wall. The hall was spinning madly around him, the portraits and doorways just blurs of color in the spinning wheel. Harry gave a shout as the floor beneath him opened up, and he lost consciousness.

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'Where IS Harry?'

Ron read the note and shook his head slightly at Hermione. A worried crease appeared in the latter's forehead, and she scrawled another note.

"Accio," Ron whispered, and the note slid discreetly from Hermione's desk to his own. 'D'you think we should tell Professor McGonagall?' this one read.

Again, Ron shook his head. Sliding his quill out of the inkpot, he scribbled on the back of Hermione's note – 'C'mon, he's probably still looking for his hat.'

Hermione Summoned the small sheet of paper, glancing toward the front of the room as she slid it under her hand and peeked at it. Professor McGonagall, oblivious to the silent conversation that was being carried on between the two friends, proceeded to turn a large green parrot into an umbrella and back again. "You will each have a turn," she informed them. "First – Mr. Weasley."

Ron rose, looking rather nervous as he approached the front of his room. "Alitis Abeo!" 

With a squawk, the parrot's wings flew open and a handle grew from its head. It gave a half-hearted flap before falling off the perch to lie on the desk, immobilized. 

"You annunciated very poorly," McGonagall told Ron severely. "Miss Granger, would you like to try to undo this damage?"

Beaming, Hermione rushed to the front of the room. "Alitis Abeo!" she cried, and with a puff of smoke, a black umbrella appeared in place of the parrot.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," said McGonagall. "Miss Granger, you may resume your seat." Turning to the umbrella, she murmured 'Reparo!', and the green parrot flew back to its perch, much shaken.

Lavender Brown went next, followed by Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom. Seamus and Lavender managed reasonable umbrellas, though neither could get rid of the feathered green décor, but Neville merely caused the harassed fowl to give an aggravated squawk and fly to the opposite side of the room.

Heaving a great sigh, McGonagall turned back to the class. "Mr. Potter – your turn," she said, as the bird flew back to its desk perch. There was no answer.

"Potter? Where is Harry Potter?" she asked sternly, glaring at the class.

Hermione raised a timid hand. "Professor, he went to get his hat," she said. "He'd left it in Gryffindor Tower."

"When was this?" McGonagall asked suspiciously. Shooting Ron a nervous glance, Hermione delivered her timid reply.

"Breakfast time, Professor."

"Hmm," said McGonagall. "Well, ten points from Gryffindor for his absence."

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When he regained consciousness, Harry found himself lying in a long dungeon-like room, made of cold grey stone. The room was lined with small pictures, seeming to shimmer weirdly in the dim light. Curiously, Harry rose and drew closer to one of the pictures, squinting to see the shimmering image more clearly. It was a drawing of a girl with long, blond hair, surrounded by five boys, with four other girls hanging back slightly. Unlike most wizard pictures, this one was not actively moving, but only flickering slightly. Trying to get a better view of the picture, Harry pressed his face closer and closer, until his nose had made contact with the parchment.

With a flash of light and a whirl of color, he experienced a sensation not unlike being pulled through a large vacuum tube. A moment later, he found himself back in the Gryffindor Common Room.


	4. 3

**__**

THREE

That afternoon, Oliver Wood snagged Harry in a hallway as he was making his way up to Gryffindor Tower with his friends.

"Listen, don't forget about practice tonight, okay?" Wood said enthusiastically. "It's going to be our most important yet!"

"Do I _ever_ forget about practice?" Harry said witheringly, looking helplessly at Ron, Hermione, and Mary Sue, who were disappearing down the corridor.

"Well . . . no," said Wood reflectively. "But listen, be thinking about speed maneuvers . . . we're playing against Hufflepuff this week, and Diggory's good. But you can outstrip him, if you watch out for his . . ."

"Oliver, listen," Harry snapped. "I know there's practice tonight. I know we're up against Hufflepuff. I know Diggory's good! Now can I please catch up with my friends?"

Wood glanced in the direction of Mary Sue's rapidly disappearing figure. "That's that new girl, isn't it," he said with admiration. "She's great."

"Yeah," said Harry tightly. "See you tonight." Without another word, he ducked away from Wood and fled up the corridor.

He found his friends in the Common Room. Ron and Hermione were both concentrating on homework for Charms, while Mary Sue chatted with a fifth-year boy Harry didn't recognize.

"Harry! Hi!" Mary Sue said as Harry entered the portrait hole. She gestured to an armchair nearby, which Harry obligingly took. "Oh, what a lovely place this is!" she smiled, her dimples evident in the flickering light. "Harry – this is Jonathan Griegs, he's been telling me about Hogwarts Quidditch." She smiled again, and Harry felt his insides writhing.

"Hi," he said to Jonathan Griegs without taking his eyes off of Mary Sue. "So – what about Quidditch?" he was aware that he must sound like an idiot, but he couldn't seem to stop talking. "I mean – I play, and I just . . ." he stopped, aware that Mary Sue was laughing at him.

"Of _course_ you play!" she said, her blue eyes sparkling. "I was just asking Jon if there was a position open on the Gryffindor team," she added seriously. "I _adore_ Quidditch."

"I wasn't sure," Jonathan added casually. 

"There are – I mean, there aren't any right now," Harry stammered. "But – er – I could talk to Oliver Wood and see if we can – er – find a spot."

Mary Sue's eyes widened. "Oh, you shouldn't do that," she exclaimed. "Really, it doesn't matter. But I would _so _love to watch a practice. When is your next practice?"

"We practice almost every day," Harry replied. "We – er – I mean, we practice tonight."

"Oh, really?" Mary Sue's eyes lit up excitedly. "Could I – I mean, would you mind if I were to watch you practice?"

"Not at all," said Harry fervently.

---------------------------------------------------

That evening, Mary Sue and Hermione accompanied him down to the Quidditch field. Ron, though he'd looked longingly after them, had been obliged to stay and complete his Potions homework.

Clutching his Firebolt, Harry made a beeline for the field as Mary Sue and Hermione went off to sit in the stands. The rest of the Gryffindor team were already there. The moment Harry's feet touched the grass of the Quidditch Field, Wood shouted for the players to mount their brooms and take off.

Half-running with his broom under him, Harry kicked off the ground and rose a few feet into the air. "I'm going to let out the balls!" Wood, who was the only team member still on the ground, called out. Harry nodded along with the rest of the group as Wood unlatched the balls and stood quickly out of the way as they shot into the air.

The tiny Snitch darted out of sight immediately, but the Bludgers did not. One spun madly toward Harry as the other headed to Katie Bell, who was tossing the Quaffle with her fellow chasers. Harry rose a few feet, easily evading the Bludger, but Katie Bell was not so quick. Alicia Spinnet screamed as the large black ball slammed into Katie's left arm. Harry watched in horror as Katie let go with both hands, overbalanced, and fell off her broom.

The other Gryffindors hurriedly returned to earth as well and crowded around Katie, who looked ready to pass out. Worried queries of "Are you all right?" and "Oh…" and "She's got to get to the Hospital Wing" filled the air. Katie didn't answer, but lay there looking very dazed. One arm was twisted under her at a very abnormal angle.

Someone tapped Harry lightly on the shoulder. Looking around, he saw Hermione and Mary Sue standing behind him, both looking extremely worried.

"What happened?" Hermione mouthed.

"Not sure," Harry replied.

"She's got to go to the hospital wing," Wood was saying. "The problem is, we still have to practice . . . who could take her?"

"I will," Angelina volunteered. "I'll be quick."

Wood frowned worriedly. "But we can't do anything with just one Chaser," he said.

"I'll take her," Hermione said from behind Harry. Wood looked around in surprise.

"Great!" he said when he spotted Hermione and Mary Sue. "Thanks so much, Hermione." Hermione conjured Katie onto a stretcher and set off in the direction of the school.

"Now what are we going to do with two Chasers?" Wood moaned after Hermione had gone.

"We can do it, Oliver," said George Weasley bracingly. "We'll do little things . . ."

"But the match is in three days!" Wood said. "What if she's not back by then?"

There was a pregnant pause.

Suddenly, Harry had an inspiration. He turned surreptitiously to Mary Sue. "Didn't you say you played Quidditch?" he asked quietly.

Mary Sue nodded, her brow furrowed slightly. "Yes," she replied.

"Which position?" Harry queried urgently.

"Well . . ." she hesitated. "All of them."

Harry gaped for a moment. Then, collecting himself, he asked, "Could you play here? I mean – er – if Oliver says it's okay?"

Mary Sue nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to!"

"Oliver!" Harry called. Wood didn't notice him for a moment, so intense was his worried concentration. "Oliver!" Harry yelled again, louder this time. Wood snapped back to reality and looked at his Seeker quizzically.

"Er – Mary Sue could fill in as Chaser," Harry suggested ineptly. "Um – she said she can play and –,"

Mary Sue hung back politely, her long blonde hair blowing slightly in the gentle breeze. Wood looked confusedly at her for a moment, and then shrugged.

"Well," he said, "I guess. It can't hurt."

Though this wasn't much of a vote of confidence, Mary Sue eagerly appropriated Katie's Nimbus. When Wood gave the call to take off again, she flew expertly into the air and began to practice a series of complicated maneuvers faultlessly. When she had finished, she was slightly flushed and smiling. The rest of the Gryffindor team applauded loudly.

"Good girl, Mary Sue!" Wood yelled, beaming as if it had all been his idea. "You're better than all of us!"

Mary Sue lowered her eyes modestly, flying closer to the rest of the team. "I wouldn't go _that_ far," she said sincerely. "Everyone looked pretty good before."

Wood shook his head in disbelief before releasing the balls again. 

The rest of the practice flew by. Heartened by Hermione's message that Katie was safely in the hospital wing a few minutes later, they executed all of their moves without error. Mary Sue proved excellent as a Chaser, dodging in and out between the other six players and scoring innumerable goals.

After practice, the seven players and Hermione trooped up to the hospital wing to check on Katie. She was still very pale, but she smiled weakly as her teammates approached.

"Hi," she said softly. "I tore a muscle in my arm and . . ." she stopped. Madam Pomfrey stuck her head around the curtain and informed the team curtly that they were not to stay too long, Katie had several injuries, among them a concussion, and was in desperate need of _rest._

"Uh, I'm sorry, Katie," said Wood awkwardly. "I shouldn't've let the balls out without a better warning."

"No, it's my fault," said Angelina Johnson contritely. "If I'd have paid better attention –,"

Katie looked slightly dazed. "It's okay," she said thickly. "Um – it was probably my fault."

"She can't remember what happened very well," Hermione explained in a whisper to Harry. "She hit her head pretty hard."

"Three more minutes," came Madam Pomfrey's voice from the other side of the curtain.

"Listen, Katie," said Wood urgently, "Are you going to be able to play in the match on Friday? Because if you're not . . ."

"I don't know," said Katie. "Sorry."

"No!" snapped the disembodied voice of Madam Pomfrey. "No Quidditch matches! Absolutely _not!_ And your time is up! Leave the girl alone, she needs _rest!_" 

Madam Pomfrey's face appeared around the end of the curtain again, here eyes flashing dangerously. 

The eight of them hurried back out of the hospital wing and up to Gryffindor Tower. Wood hung back at the rear of the group with Harry, Hermione, and Mary Sue. The Weasleys, Angelina, and Alicia had all gone ahead, eager to get to the Common Room fire. Several times Wood seemed about to say something, but stopped himself.

Finally Harry, driven to the point of distraction, snapped "What _is_ it, Oliver?"

Wood reddened. "Well," he said after a moment, "It looks as though we'll have to give up the match on Friday or . . . find a replacement Chaser." He looked meaningfully at Mary Sue.

"Yeah," said Harry. He hesitated as well.

Mary Sue's chime-like laugh pealed off suddenly. "I'd love to," she said sweetly.

Wood gave a triumphant whoop.


	5. 4

****

FOUR

Friday evening after the Quidditch match, the Gryffindors hosted a party in the Common Room in Mary Sue's honor. At eleven, Percy Weasley announced that they were all to go to bed. At one in the morning, Professor McGonagall came in and expressed her displeasure at their raucous behavior, and ordered them to bed immediately. At three, the crowd finally retired to their respective dormitories. Harry, exhausted by the match and then the ensuing festivities, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day passed swiftly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were constantly amazed by Mary Sue's array of talents – Hermione declared admiringly that she would have a very hard time topping the grades Mary Sue was sure to achieve before returning to America. Mary Sue blushed and murmured that she was sure Hermione would prove to be a challenge as well.

The only class that Harry, Hermione and Ron had without Mary Sue was Divination, as Mary Sue was signed up for only the basic courses. As Professor Trelawney murmured dire predictions for everyone in the class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry began an avid discussion of their new friend.

"So what do you think of her?" Ron muttered when Trelawney wasn't looking.

"Pretty," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione gave a soft snort. "Well, she is," Harry defended, reddening.

"She's really nice," Hermione whispered a moment later, as Trelawney moved to the other side of the room to help Neville Longbottom with his crystal ball. "I mean . . ." she hesitated.

"Yeah?" Ron prompted. Hermione, to their surprise, turned very red.

"I didn't think I'd like her," she confessed in an undertone. "I thought she'd be a snot, but . . ."

"She's terrific," said Harry fervently.

"She's really nice," Hermione repeated. Their conversation was halted as Trelawney floated toward their table.

"And what," she asked mistily, "Have you three seen?"

"It's going to be awfully foggy tonight," Ron muttered to Harry. Harry stifled a laugh, earning a disapproving look from Professor Trelawney.

"Um, well," said Harry. "Nothing, really."

Trelawney pulled a chair toward their table and sat, like a great glittering moth descending onto a perch. "You must clear your outer mind," she intoned dreamily, gazing into the ball. "Let nothing interfere."

"What a load of rubbish," Hermione said under her breath. Harry nodded as Trelawney continued to gaze into the Orb.

Suddenly the Divination Professor clutched her head and gave a cry of dismay. "Oh! But there is death in this one, my dears, Death." She paused dramatically.

Hermione gave a soft snort of disgust, which Professor Trelawney chose to disregard. Lavender Brown, a few tables away, gave a small cry of dismay. "What is it?" she called in a hushed voice.

Trelawney fixed her large eyes on Harry. "The Orb foretells the death of one close to you," she said in a tragic whisper. "It is clouded, but the message is clear." She rose dramatically, drew a great breath, and said, "Let us leave this lesson here, class." Harry, Ron, and Hermione, only too eager to leave the heavily fumed attic and return to Mary Sue.

As they emerged once more into the corridor, Harry heard his name called. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown casting him worried looks.

"Who's close to you?" Parvati asked in a hushed voice. Harry turned away in disgust and hurried to catch up with Ron and Hermione.

"What'd they want?" Ron asked.

"To know who was going to die," Harry said in tones of deep loathing. Ron snickered.

"Harry!" his name was called again.

He whirled around, angry. "What this time?" he demanded, and then stopped, blushing furiously, as Mary Sue ran toward him.

"Sorry," he said. "I thought you were someone else."

Mary Sue laughed. "It's okay," she said. "What is your next class?"

Harry checked his schedule. "Double potions," he said despairingly. "Great."

"It's not _that_ bad," said Mary Sue consideringly. "It was quite interesting, I thought."

Ron gaped at her, and Hermione choked. "But what about Snape? And Malfoy?" Ron demanded in amazement.

"Well . . ." Mary Sue considered it. "Snape was positively vindictive, but Draco wasn't so bad."

"Draco?" Ron sputtered. "And _not so bad???_"

"Well, he was polite enough," said Mary Sue fairly.

Harry stared at her, aghast. "He was?" was all he could seem to say.

Mary Sue nodded. "He didn't talk much, but he wasn't rude." She delivered them all a quizzical look. "Why, is he normally?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "He hates all Gryffindors," he explained. 

"What about you?" Mary Sue asked.

Harry gave a short laugh. "Funny."

"No, really?" Mary Sue pressed.

"He hates Harry, he hates Hermione, and he hates me," said Ron stonily. "Just because his father's a Death Eater with a lot of money."

Mary Sue stared. "A Death Eater?" she asked incredulously. She shuddered slightly. "But he didn't seem so bad," she added after a moment, still unconvinced.

"Trust me, Mary Sue," said Hermione flatly. "You do not want to get mixed up with Malfoy."

"Why does he hate you all?" Mary Sue asked, still obviously confused.

"Because Harry's a celebrity," Ron replied.

"Because Hermione's Muggle-born," Harry answered quickly.

Hermione was silent. Mary Sue looked questioningly at Ron, whose ears had gone very red.

"My family doesn't have a lot of money," he muttered, looking at his shoes.

Mary Sue looked slightly shocked. "Those are stupid reasons," she announced. "I mean, _I'm_ Muggle-born."

Harry stared. "Does Malfoy know that?" he asked cautiously. Mary Sue nodded.

"Let me get this straight," said Harry in astonishment. "Malfoy knows your Muggle-born. And you sat at his table. And you're still alive."

Mary Sue nodded, vaguely nonplussed. "He didn't seem that bad," she added for the third time.

Ron shook his head and gave a low, amazed whistle. "I thought I'd never see the day."

They entered Potions a few moments early and took a table near the back. Without further discussion, they began to pull things from their bags.

A moment later, Harry was surprised by the sound of a chair being pushed to their table. He looked up quickly, afraid that Neville had taken the seat again. His jaw dropped when he saw the occupant of the fifth chair.

It was Draco Malfoy.

"Hi," he said casually, looking at Mary Sue. Mary Sue shot Harry a helpless look, and responded in kind.

"Er – there's an extra seat at our table," said Malfoy awkwardly, still looking at Mary Sue. He shot Harry a cold glance.

"I think she's established, Malfoy," said Hermione coldly.

"I didn't ask you, Mudblood," Malfoy drawled. He turned back to Mary Sue. "Well?"

Mary Sue shook her head and looked down at her hands. Without another word, Malfoy stalked off to the other side of the dungeon.

"He really is bad," said Mary Sue faintly Malfoy was out of earshot. "I'm so, so sorry, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head impatiently. "It doesn't matter," she said tightly, pulling her Potions text from her bag.

Ron was glaring across the dungeon at Malfoy. "If this weren't Potion's class, I'd . . ." 

"But it _is_ Potions, Ron," said Hermione. "Get out your ingredients."

Ron drew his ingredients from his bag, still muttering angrily.

After Potions they returned to the Common Room for the afternoon, where they began their mountains of homework. At six-thirty, the four of them – as well as a large group of other Gryffindors following Mary Sue – trooped down to the Great Hall for dinner.

The atmosphere was noisy and cheerful as usual, but immediately on entrance Harry spotted something strange at the Ravenclaw table. A group of girls at the end was clustered around another girl, who was crying profusely. Nonplussed, Harry took a seat at the Gryffindor table just as Dumbledore rose gravely and tapped on a glass for silence.

Gradually, the noise level in the Great Hall fell into nothingness. 

"I am grieved to inform you of some very bad news," he said somberly. "As a few of you may know, a prisoner escaped from Azkaban prison three weeks ago."

Worried murmurs circulated through the Hall. "Did you know that?" Harry asked Hermione, Ron, and Mary Sue collectively. They all shook their heads, their faces solemn.

"This has not been attempted before," said Dumbledore when silence was once more restored. "But this is not all." He turned to face the Ravenclaw table.

"Last night," he began heavily, "Mr. and Mrs. Gerard Homdinger were murdered by this Azkaban escapee. Some of you may know their daughter, Lila."

Pandemonium ensued for several minutes. When the Hall was finally quiet, Dumbledore continued. "This is cause for much grieving," he said solemnly. "Also, security has been increased upon the Hogwarts grounds, as there is no telling what the Death Eater may do next. No students are allowed outside the grounds on any conditions. There will be teachers patrolling the corridors at all times. No students are to be out of bed after hours for any reason." He paused. "Students caught disobeying these rules will be expelled."

With a grave look around the Great Hall, Dumbledore resumed his seat once more.


	6. 5

****

FIVE

The feeling in the Common Room that evening was much subdued. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mary Sue sat silently in a corner, while Mary Sue's usual throng of admirers sat a short distance away. 

Hermione was the first to breach the silence. "I know that girl," she said hollowly. "She's in my Runes class."

"Who?" Ron asked blankly. Harry scowled at him.

"Lila Homdinger," Hermione replied, kicking the carpet.

"Sorry," said Ron, reddening.

"Er," said Harry, striving to find a new subject. "Who was it that got free of Azkaban?"

"Dunno," said Ron. Hermione didn't answer.

"I think," said Mary Sue after a moment, "It was a man named Arlando Plume. They say he was in the Dark Lord's inner circle."

"Woah," said Harry. 

Mary Sue glanced at Ron. "Don't look so cheerful," she said lightly. The comment did nothing to dispel anyone's heavy mood, and the atmosphere drifted back into somber silence.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the portrait hole. All four shot to their feet, peering around the others who had stood as well to see what was happening. A moment later three people burst into the Common Room. The first was a highly disgruntled Percy Weasley, who entered and then retreated to the far end of the Common Room. The next was a highly enraged Professor McGonagall, followed by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, who was nearly apopletic with anger.

"I will not have you telling them this!" Fudge roared as McGonagall strode into the Common Room. "Has Dumbledore not done enough damage already? If you should follow through with this, I shall speak to the board of governors about retention of your position and whether or _not_ it is good idea…"

"You can do what you like, Minister," said McGonagall, breathing heavily through her nose, "But these students have a right to know." Her eyes fell on Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mary Sue. "Especially them," she added in a dangerously soft voice.

Harry blanched. What could they possibly have done?

"Minerva," said Fudge, fuming, "I have given you my opinion. I must speak now to the other Heads of Houses." With a final glare, he whirled on his heel and exited the Common Room.

Professor McGonagall watched him go, breathing heavily. When the portrait hole had closed behind him, she drew a deep breath and turned to face the thronging Gryffindors.

"I am sure," she said a bit shakily, "That you would all like to know what this is about."

There were murmurs of collective agreement.

She sighed heavily. "I cannot imagine that you have not heard of the escape of Arlando Plume, one of the most high-security prisoners held captive in the fortress of Azkaban."

Silence greeted this; of course everyone knew.

"What you probably do not know," said McGonagall still more heavily, "Is that it is probable that he will attack the School."

There were shocked gasps and excited murmurs throughout the Common Room. When silence had fallen once more, Professor McGonagall continued.

"As you should be aware, there is one person responsible for the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This person most of you know well – Harry Potter."

Harry reddened and stared at his shoes.

"What most of you are not aware of," McGonagall continued, "Is that there is also one person responsible for keeping the Dark Lord at bay for so many years. This person, too, most of you know and love. It is our own American girl, Mary Sue Smith."

A wave of excitement and confusion and amazement rose and fell in the Common Room. When it was quiet again, McGonagall elaborated. "Once in every hundred years, a wizard or witch is born who holds the keys to powers the rest of us cannot fathom. This Chosen One, called the _Alenai_, is born to one purpose: to keep evil from the land for as long as he or she lives. However, they are still only mortal, and are weak as all men are.

"Thirteen years ago, a girl was born to Edgar and Anna Smith. Though they are both of them Muggles, they knew at once that there was nothing ordinary about their daughter. When the Benel's Academy letter came eleven years later, neither were surprised. Nor were they surprised when, in that year, they were informed that their daughter was the Alenai, born to save men for a time from evil. But they were concerned for her safety, for of course she would become a target. Which is partly the reason for this year's exchange."

McGonagall let this sink in before going on. "Mary Sue Smith is an extraordinary girl, as I am sure you have all noticed." There were murmurs of assent. "But her powers have become known to the Dark Lord. Professor Dumbledore and I believe that Arlando Plume will try very hard to lay his hands upon these two students – Harry Potter and Mary Sue Smith. We must protect them. We must also prepare for an attack upon Hogwarts.

"And it is very likely," McGongall added significantly, "That if Arlando Plume were to make an attack upon the school, our only hope of survival would be Mary Sue Smith and Harry Potter."

--------------------------------------

Although Cornelius Fudge was highly unhappy with the proceedings and made several hints to all the teachers that they might be suspended or permanently fired, the Heads of Houses had all informed their students of the possible attack by the next morning when Harry went down to breakfast. People stared at him as if he were about to die any moment, and at Mary Sue as if she had turned from queen to goddess. Whispers trailed behind them wherever they went, until Harry felt ready to explode. Though most of them were in regard to Mary Sue's newly discovered power – murmurs of "The Alenai, she said! Amazing! To think we never knew…" and "I'd bet my hat that she defeats Plume" – but a few were ominous predictions of Harry's imminent death.

"There's _no way_ he could do it…"

"Yeah, but he beat You-Know-Who before, c'mon…"

"But Plume was smart enough to escape Azkaban. If he's smart enough to do that, he's smart enough to do _anything._"

"'Cept kill Mary Sue," the other person would inevitably add. 

Mary Sue seemed largely unaffected by the news that an Azkaban escapee was after her life. The only notable difference was that she spent less time with her throng of admirers and more with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The four had taken to practicing numerous curses together in secret, in abandoned classrooms or, if all else failed, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The girl ghost would watch them over the top of her favorite stall, making morose comments directed to no one in particular.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what you're doing," she said peevishly the first day they practiced in there.

"No," said Ron shortly, pulling a book entitled _Curses for the Ordinary Person_ from his bag. 

Myrtle gave a tragic moan and sank six inches in the air, so that all they could see over the top of the stall were her wide, baleful eyes.

"We're practicing curses," said Mary Sue as if she were simply addressing another student. 

"Oh!" was all that Myrtle said.

"Do you want to try?" said Harry after a moment. The reaction was neither what he had anticipated nor hoped for: Moaning Myrtle burst into tears and flew into the toilet.

"Nice one, Harry," said Ron under his breath as Hermione read up on counter-curses (to fix whatever catastrophic things they did to each other). Harry shook with suppressed laughs, but Mary Sue looked sadly at the place where Myrtle had been a moment before.

"Poor Myrtle," she said in an undertone. "She really _is_ lonely."

Ron gaped in disbelief for a moment, and then collected himself and nodded vigorously. "Yep," he said. "Poor thing. I always try to be friendly whenever we come in here."

Hermione giggled, earning herself a fierce glare from Ron. 

"Really?" Mary Sue said. "You know, that really means a lot, Ron. I didn't realize what a caring person you were."

This time it was Harry who gave a snort of laughter. Neither Ron nor Mary Sue paid him any attention.

"Let's start practicing," said Hermione brightly after an awkward silence. They began hurling volleys of curses every which way, to the backdrop of Moaning Myrtle's sobs emanating from the U-bend.

--------------------------------------

Three weeks after Professor McGonagall had announced Arlando Plume's intentions to her House, Harry awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. He lay still for a moment, trying to discover what had awakened him, when he heard it again – it was the creak of a stair. Cautiously, he slid his wrist toward a gap in the bed curtains, trying to read his watch by the moonlight. The watch, glowing faintly silver in the light of the moon, proclaimed it to be midnight.

A moment later, he heard the sound of stealthy footsteps outside his dormitory, and a moment later the sound of a doorknob being turned as quietly as possible. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry sat up and peered through the gap in the curtains, which gave him an excellent view of the dormitory door. He hoped that the intruder would have a poorer sighting of him.

He was startled to see a figure in school robes with waist-long blonde hair slip into the dormitory. He gave a muffled gasp as he realized that it was Mary Sue, and slid off the bed.

"What are you _doing_ in here?" he hissed. She held a finger to her lips, pointed to his own robes, and whispered that she'd wait outside. Completely baffled, Harry dressed quickly and then slipped out of the dormitory to where Mary Sue, calm and serene as always, waited.

He followed her down to the Common Room before demanding an explanation in a low voice.

"Harry," she said, her voice calm but frightened at the same time, "I have a bad feeling. I'm not sure what it is."

Harry blew his breath out in disgust. _Girls._

"And so you woke me up _in the middle of the night_ to tell me you were scared of the dark?" Part of him was irritated at her childish behavior and simply wanted to get back to bed. The other part of him was astounded that such words were issuing from his mouth, and directed at _Mary Sue,_ of all people.

"No," she said, very serious now. "Harry – I woke you up because I don't think you should sleep the rest of the night."

Harry stared, nonplussed.

"I mean," she said carefully, "I think that Arlando Plume is going to strike – tonight."

"Tell Dumbledore," said Harry as soon as he'd recovered his voice. "Tell McGonagall."

Mary Sue looked uncertain. "I could," she said. "But what could they do?"

It was true, he realized, remembering McGonagall's words of the previous month. If Mary Sue wasn't able to fight against Arlando Plume, _no one_ would be able to.

On impulse, he strode forward a step and hugged her. He was surprised to find her crying.

"What's the matter?" he asked in confusion, pulling away quickly.

A tear slid down her white cheek. "Nothing," she said in a voice much clearer than Harry would have supposed.

"No, really," he said earnestly. "What's the matter?" It was suddenly important to him that _nothing_ be the matter.

"Well…" she sighed prettily. "The Alenai."

Harry stared, completely nonplussed.

"_Being_ the Alenai," she elaborated upon noting his look of confusion. "Knowing that so many people count on me to . . . do the impossible." She gave a small, sad smile. "I've never been a child, Harry. Even my parents knew, before they ever got the letter for Benel's. And I knew, too."

Harry thought of the numerous hardships of growing up in the Dursley's home. "I guess you could say I never was a child, either," he said rather gruffly. "But," he said, his voice softer, "I see what you mean. But you can do it, Mary Sue."

Mary Sue looked at him, her eyes very large and clear and blue in the moonlight. "Do you trust me that much, then?" she asked simply. Harry nodded. "Then I can at least try."

He hugged her again, impulsively, and then they began their long vigil.


	7. 6

****

SIX

Harry was startled into full wakefulness by Mary Sue's voice whispering his name.

It was not yet dawn; his watch told him it was still only two in the morning. Mary Sue had risen, looking somewhat distracted. 

"I changed my mind," she said in a whisper. "Let's go to Dumbledore."

Somewhat cheered, Harry followed her out of the portrait hole. ("WHAT do you think you're DOING?" the Fat Lady demanded, but they ignored her.)

They walked in silence down the dark corridors, in the direction Harry knew the office of the Headmaster lay. When they were halfway there, Harry became aware that they were holding hands. The realization cheered him further, and he had no wish to break the connection.

When they had nearly reached Dumbledore's office they were startled to find a discarded hat lying in the middle of the corridor. "Someone will miss that," Harry sad, and bent down, thinking that he would take it to Dumbledore and let the Headmaster replace it to its original owner. Mary Sue reached for it at the same moment, and as their hands touched the hat her large blue eyes gave him a startled glance. A moment later, he felt a tugging sensation in his stomach, and found himself and Mary Sue not in a Hogwarts corridor, but in a grassy field he didn't recognize. There was only one other person in the field as well – a tall, black-robed man who gave a quiet chuckle when they appeared.

"Right on time," he said, his voice soft. "And now I come face-to-face with the two people I have _most_ desired to meet."

Harry felt like asking the man who he was and what he thought he was doing, but was distracted as Mary Sue rose from the grass beside him. She seemed taller than she had a few moments ago, and her face was that of a woman, not a child. For a moment he gaped at her, before turning back to the black-robed man who had not spoken again.

"Your plan was clever, Arlando Plume," said a cool, musical feminine voice from somewhere near Harry. He was startled to realize that it was Mary Sue.

"Yes," the man, Plume, agreed. "It was."

"Yet I think that you did not think of something," Mary Sue said, still more coolly.

Plume chuckled. "What?"

"The fact," she hissed, "The we are not defenseless children."

Harry sprang up beside her and drew his wand, noticing that hers was already clasped tightly in her porcelain-white fingers. 

Plume laughed again, and raised his wand. "We shall see," he said.

Before he was halfway through his spell, there was a flash of light and Harry found himself by the lake at Hogwarts. Mary Sue, looking slightly shaken, was beside him. "I didn't know I could do that," she said, and wonder tinged her voice.

"What use is it?" Harry asked. "He'll come anyway."

"It bought us some time," said Mary Sue, jumping up suddenly. "We can raise the alarm. If no one else is going to fight, at least they won't be murdered in their beds." Without another word she began to run hard toward the entrance to Hogwarts.

Harry stared after her. Would he ever figure this girl out? After a moment's indecision, he, too, began running.

-----------------------------------------

Within twenty minutes, everyone in the castle had been aroused. Mary Sue had said only that they'd touched a Portkey and been transported to a meeting-place with Arlando Plume; that somehow she'd managed to bring them back to Hogwarts, and that Plume would probably try another attack soon. Dumbledore looked grave, but did not question them further.

"Headmaster," Harry had said suddenly a few minutes after they'd arrived, "Plume wouldn't actually come to Hogwarts, would he?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his keen blue gaze fixed on Harry. "We do not know until it happens, Harry," he said solemnly. "But Arlando Plume was long known to be one of the most rash, daring, impulsive, and talented of Voldemort's supporters. I do not know if any power other than that of the Alenai would be strong enough to destroy him. It is said that Lord Voldemort gave Plume power to destroy the enemies of the Dark Lord, even myself. Whether this is idle gossip or true happening, we do not know."

Harry and Mary Sue sat alone with Dumbledore in his office. A moment after Dumbledore had finished speaking, there was a rap on the door.

"Come in," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Ron and Hermione tumbled into the office, both still in their pajamas and looking very confused. Their confusion was only heightened by the sight of Mary Sue and Harry, both completely dressed, looking as if they'd been up for hours (which they had).

"What happened?" Ron asked as soon as he'd caught his breath. Mary Sue explained as concisely as possible, leaving both Hermione and Ron staring at the pair of them in amazement. 

"A _Portkey?_" Hermione asked. "Arlando _Plume?_"

Ron was more interested in the details of their return to Hogwarts. "You did that?" he asked Mary Sue keenly. "What was it, Apparation?"

Mary Sue shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I didn't know I could do it." She smiled.

Dumbledore stood abruptly. "I am afraid that we must go elsewhere," he said. "My office is not the most accessible of regions."

Hermione began to protest, but Dumbledore silence her with a raise of his hand. "Miss Granger, you may wait with Miss Smith and Mr. Potter. As may you, Mr. Weasley. Good luck to you all. I will not be far if you have need of me."

Wordlessly, they followed the Headmaster down the stairs in into the Great Hall, where the students had gathered. Dumbledore said gravely that matters were now out of his hands, but that he thought they should return to their Houses and 'get some sleep'. The main body of the students did as he instructed, leaving only a handful – mostly Gryffindors – with Harry and his friends. For nearly an hour they sat in silence, waiting for something. After a while, Harry grew tired of the terrified atmosphere.

"Anyone up for a walk?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

Hermione had fallen asleep, as had many, and did not answer. Mary Sue stood without a word, and Ron jumped eagerly after her. As they paced toward the door out of the Great Hall, Seamus Finnigan and Fred Weasley – George had fallen asleep as well – came running up behind them.

"We're coming too," said Fred quickly. "It's horrible in here."

Harry nodded wordlessly and led the way toward the Entrance Hall and then out of the school. "Do you think we should go out?" Dean asked, but no one answered.

The slightly frigid air was refreshing, and Harry brightened a bit. He sat down on the grass outside and stared out across the dark grounds. Seamus, Fred, and Ron sat quickly beside him. 

"Where's Mary Sue?" Harry asked. Fred shrugged.

"Don't know. Took a wrong turn?"

Seamus shook his head and pointed to the lake. A figure was silhouetted in the dark, her golden hair silvery in the moonlight. 

"I'll go see if she's okay," said Ron immediately, jumping up. Harry raised his eyebrows, but Ron was already dashing toward the lake.

-----------------------------------------------

When he reached her, Mary Sue had sat down, her arms wrapped around her legs, staring out across the water. Her long blonde hair blew softly in the whispering breeze, and she didn't seem to notice Ron.

"Hi," he said awkwardly after a moment.

She turned, startled. "Oh! Hello," she said. Ron was startled; her voice was different than he had remembered. It was strong, and musical – it was not the voice of a child.

"Er . . ." he started, and couldn't seem to go on. "I thought you might be lonely."

"Thanks," she said softly. "Maybe I am." She patted a spot on the bank beside her. Obediently, Ron sat, and began trailing a weed in the water.

"I'm going to be sad to leave," said Mary Sue wistfully after a moment's silence. Ron, startled that she was able to think such a thing in such a time, gaped at the water.

"It's really nice here," she continued when he didn't respond. "Not at all like America. And I have friends here."

Ron turned to her in surprise. "You mean, you didn't have friends in America?"

Mary Sue smiled and shook her head slightly. "Not really," she said. "Not like . . . not like here."

"Oh," said Ron, lost for words. How could she _not_ have had friends?

"Back at Benel's Academy, _everyone_ knew . . . knew about the Alenai." Mary Sue gave a small, pained smile. "They were all kind of afraid, I think. None of them were very open."

"Oh," Ron repeated. What _could_ he say?

Mary Sue looked down at the grass, a little forlornly. On instinct, Ron scooted a little closer to her.

She looked back at him and smiled. "But you . . . and Hermione, and Harry . . . all of you don't seem to care."

"Well," said Ron fairly, "We didn't _know_ that there was such a thing as the Alenai until a few weeks ago."

Mary Sue nodded, now looking a little wistful. "But you didn't change," she said. "That matters a lot." She shivered slightly in the breeze.

"Are you cold?" Ron asked. 

"A little," Mary Sue admitted. Ron put his arm around her, and she looked up at him, her large blue eyes grateful. "Thanks for not changing," she said softly.

"Er," said Ron awkwardly, "You're welcome. I think."

Mary Sue gave a small, quiet laugh. "I'm really going to miss it here," she said again.

"We're all going to miss _you_," said Ron emphatically. "_I'm_ going to miss you," he added after a moment.

Mary Sue smiled, and suddenly she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'll write."

-------------------------------------


	8. 7 FINAL CHAPTER

****

SEVEN

Harry was awoken for the third time that night as a blast of blinding white light split the air. He jumped up and grabbed his wand at the same time, noting vaguely as he did so that both Ron and Mary Sue were with them once more. All five were alert, wands upraised.

A figure was standing a few yards ahead of them, wearing a black cloak with the hood thrown back. His brilliant red hair was long and matted, and his sunken features bore the appearance of a corpse. Harry shuddered slightly.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" a voice nearby cried suddenly. The stranger's wand flew into Fred's hand before Harry had time to realize what had happened.

The stranger gave a slight chuckle, and Harry recognized the voice. It was that of Arlando Plume.

"I am not so fool as to carry a single wand," Plume said, and drew another from his cloak. Before he could be disarmed again, he directed his wand toward Fred and cried "Stupefy!"

Harry stood in shock as Fred crumpled, ashen-faced, to the ground. Plume smiled. "Children," he said in mocking disgust.

"We are not all children," said a hard, commanding voice from Harry's other side. He turned to see Mary Sue, transformed again from a third-year student to a competent witch, easily as tall as he was.

"But," said Plume with another smile, "You are _all_ mortal. Even the Alenai can be killed."

"As can the supporters of Voldemort," Mary Sue retorted.

Plume laughed again. "You have me there," he agreed demurely. Without warning he screamed "CRUCIO!"

Mary Sue crumpled as Fred had, but was still conscious. Her body shook and her face twisted in pain. Harry dropped to his knees beside her.

Somewhere above him he heard Plume cry "_Avada Kedavra!_" at the same moment Seamus bellowed "EXPELLIARMUS!" He was dimly aware of a flash of blinding violet light as the two spells collided. Mary Sue went limp.

"Mary Sue!" Ron dropped to his knees on her other side. Mary Sue looked up at the pair of them and smiled faintly. 

"I'll be all right," she said faintly. "Get – up."

Hesitantly, Harry and Ron stood. Mary Sue slowly stumbled to her feet as well, holding her wand in fingers that were very white. "Avada Kedavra," she whispered.

Harry's hand flew to shield his eyes as a jet of brilliant green light shot from the end of Mary Sue's wand and toward Plume. Plume stood, stunned, for a moment, and then crumpled to the ground.

"Go get Dumbledore," Mary Sue said in a tight voice. "And take Fred to the hospital wing." 

Harry conjured a stretcher for Fred and followed Ron, who was already heading toward the school. He glanced anxiously over his shoulder several times at Mary Sue, who had not moved at all. 

When he reached the door to the Entrance Hall, he sighed, and with a final look over his shoulder, he entered the school.

---------------------------------------------

Seamus was left alone with Mary Sue and the body of Arlando Plume several yards away. He stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to stay or follow Harry and Ron. When both had disappeared into Hogwarts, he decided he'd better stay.

"Mary Sue?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Do you want to go inside?"

Mary Sue didn't answer. Seamus was shocked as she began to shudder silently, and he saw the glisten of a tear roll down her cheek. She bowed her head and tucked her wand back inside her robes, but didn't reply.

Not quite knowing what else to do, Seamus moved over to Mary Sue and hugged her slightly. "Er . . . it's okay," he said lamely.

"I used an Unforgivable Curse," Mary Sue whispered, not looking at him.

"Is that all?" Seamus asked in relief.

"Yes!" she said. "Seamus, I . . . I _killed_ someone." She sounded disbelieving.

"Well," was all Seamus could get out. But he didn't let go of her.

Mary Sue looked up at him, and her eyes were glowing with tears. "I am going to miss this place so much," she whispered. "There's so much _trust . . ._" she smiled weakly. "But I think that I will be glad to get away, too." She glanced toward Plume's body, and shuddered slightly.

"Mary Sue," said Seamus, finally managing to find words again, "It was okay. You saved lives tonight. And he would've gone to the Dementors, anyway . . ."

Mary Sue shuddered again, and Seamus hugged her tightly before drawing away. "We should go back to the castle," he said, and she nodded mutely, and followed him.

-----------------------------------

One week later, the entire Gryffindor House crowded into an unused classroom that had a fireplace to see Mary Sue off back to America. Though she had taken a more scenic route from Benel's to Hogwarts, she would travel directly back by Floo Powder, chaperoned by Professor McGonagall. ("Not like she needs it," said Seamus admiringly to Dean. "More like Mary Sue's chaperoning McGonagall.")

Mary Sue bade tearful goodbyes to the friends and admirers she had made in her three-month-long stay at Hogwarts. The only bag she carried with her was a small pocketbook – her trunk and the rest of her baggage would be sent back on the Hogwarts Express. 

Before she left, Mary Sue sought Harry, Ron, and Hermione out. She embraced Hermione first, thanking her tearfully for her acceptance.

"It really meant a lot to me," she said sincerely, her large blue eyes brimming with tears. "You have no idea. I've never really had a best friend before," she added, "And I think you're the first one."

Hermione grinned shakily. "Anytime," she said, and burst into tears herself. "Will you come back sometime?" she asked a moment later, when she had regained control of her emotions.

"I don't know," Mary Sue said. "I will try, though." She gazed wistfully around the crowded classroom. With one last quick embrace, she turned to Ron.

"I meant what I said about writing," she said softly. Ron nodded, his ears scarlet.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, "I will too." He hugged her quickly and she turned to Harry.

"Harry . . ." she said, and couldn't finish. 

"I know," he said softly. He, too, embraced her, though not as briefly as had Ron. "You were great, Mary Sue," he said. 

"I wasn't," she said softly. "It was horrible."

"It was the only end," Harry replied. "Even Dumbledore agreed."

"Yes," said Mary Sue, "But I do not know if I can forgive myself."

"Remember what I said before, Mary Sue," said Harry. "I trust you. I'd trust you with my life. We all trust you." He pulled away. "We all love you, Mary Sue. Come back, sometime, won't you?"

She nodded mutely and dried her tears.

Fifteen minutes later, when Professor McGonagall sought her out, she had returned to her usual state of cheerfulness. After Professor McGonagall had disappeared into the flames, Mary Sue strode toward the fire and with a last "Goodbye!" to everyone, grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder.

"Wait!" said Hermione suddenly as Mary Sue bent to toss the powder into the once-more orange flames. She dashed forward and picked up a small piece of paper that had fluttered out of Mary Sue's small pocketbook. "What's this?"

It was a picture, taken in the moving wizard style, of a auburn-haired teenage boy in trim navy robes. He was smiling cheerily up from the picture, and every now and then he'd wave one hand.

"Oh!" Mary Sue cried, her eyes very round and startled. She snatched the picture from Hermione's hand. "Thank you!" she said breathlessly and made as if to toss the Floo Powder.

"Who _is_ that?" Ron asked curiously. Mary Sue turned around and flashed him a dazzling smile.

"That's Patrick," she said as she tossed the Floo Powder. "He's in the fourth year at Benel's. We've been going steady for two years now." With a wave, she stepped into the fire, cried "Benel's Academy!" and vanished.

--------------------------------------------

**__**

AN—For anyone who wasn't sure, this is THE END of STORY ONE: "The Trouble With Mary". Yes, the point of this story was to show that Mary Sues are inherently evil, no matter how good and harmless they may seem. ALTHOUGH, if you do it right, they can't harm anything and can sometimes be fun to read. ;-) Next story: STORY TWO: "I Saw Three Ships". Posted soon!


	9. INTERLUDE ONE Back in the Chamber

****

INTERLUDE

__

Back In The Chamber

Harry awoke to find himself in a stone room with pictures lining the walls. He stared, nonplussed, for a moment before his memories of the place returned. But – how had he gotten here? Last he knew, he'd been in the Common Room after seeing Mary Sue off to Benel's. He sighed in frustration as he remembered the picture that had fallen from her purse, and rose.

What _were_ these pictures, after all? He could remember leaning forward to look at one before, but then he'd blacked out and woken up in the Common Room with Ron and Hermione. Was he having a series of hallucinations? Was he really, at this moment, sitting in the Charms class as Flitwick demonstrated Magnifying Charms?

Any moment he expected his name to be called sharply, for the room to come back into focus, but nothing happened. He remained in a small stone dungeon sort of room, with hundreds of pictures along the walls.

Deciding there was nothing else to do, he went to inspect the pictures once more. This time the one he scrutinized seemed to be a wavering, blurred sketch of six people in black robes – it looked as though it were three boys and three girls. They were doing something, but he could not tell what. He leaned closer and closer, until the tip of his nose touched the picture.

The dungeon chamber began to whirl around him, and he knew nothing more.


	10. STORY TWO I Saw Three Ships CHAPTE...

**__**

AN---I really hate doing these, but I have to clear up a few facts. First of all, these are not related to the real events depicted in the books. If I say they're in third year, the story most likely will NOT have to do with Sirius Black. This is in their fourth year, but the Triwizard Tournament is NOT taking place. 

A "ship" is a popular pairing between two people. Though this is named for the song "I Saw Three Ships", you will notice there are far more than three couples in this little escapade…I'm sure you'll be able to catch the underlyings of MY favorite pairings, but what sort of cliché would it be without the author's own view?

Lastly – the dialogue in this will be a little more stilted, because some of the comments will be ridiculous and used only to illustrate the ridiculousness of some of the pairings.

Now that we've got all that straightened up, read on. 

****

STORY TWO

__

I Saw Three Ships

Chapter 1

He awoke the next morning to find himself back in his bed in his dormitory. Maybe he should talk to Professor Dumbledore about the dreams he'd had, he thought as he dressed and hurried downstairs. The Common Room was nearly deserted. A handful of students worked feverishly on incomplete homework for that day in one corner of the room, and Ron and Hermione waited for him in front of the fire, but few others had not gone down to breakfast.

"Harry!" Hermione said, jumping up when she saw him. 

"Great, I'm starved," said Ron. Harry followed them out through the portrait hole.

"We thought you'd never wake up," said Hermione, glancing at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

"Just tired," Harry said. "I had a weird dream, though."

"Oh," Ron said as they turned the corner into the Great Hall. "Hey, what's up?"

The Hall was buzzing excitedly. Breakfast had been forgotten as most of the students crowded around a paper that had been posted near the door, talking in loud, enthusiastic voices.

"What – does – it – say?" Harry shouted above the melee raging around them. Ron and Hermione shrugged.

"Harry! Hiya, Harry!" Harry groaned as Colin Creevey, an over-enthusiastic third year, pushed his way toward them through the crowd. "Harry, Harry, are you going to the ball?"

Harry stared. "_What?_" he said in complete bafflement.

"The notice!" Colin shouted, beaming. "There's going to be a Valentine's ball for students fourth year and up! That means you, Harry! Isn't it cool?"

He heard Ron groan softly behind him. "Sure, Colin," he said halfheartedly. 

"Who're you gonna take, Harry?" Colin pressed.

"I don't know, Colin, I'm going to go eat breakfast," Harry said. He turned to find that Ron and Hermione had already sat down at the Gryffindor table and were helping themselves to food from the platters and bowls in front of them.

Harry slid in next to them. "A _Valentine's Ball?_" he asked in unmasked horror as he buttered a slice of toast. 

"Yeah, I know," said Ron feelingly. 

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "It will be fun."

Harry choked. "Right," he said sarcastically. "Loads of fun."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't already decided to hate it –,"

"I know, I know," Harry said in exasperation. "But I don't like the idea of standing around for three hours and feeling stupid and watching everyone else dancing."

Ron nodded his agreement, but Hermione didn't seem to notice as she spooned oatmeal into her bowl. "Come on, you two, knock it off," she said cheerfully.

Harry and Ron exchanged meaningful glances.

-------------------------------------

When he learned that all students in the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years were expected to attend the ball, Harry was even less pleased. He'd made up his mind that he would spend a quiet evening in the Common Room with Ron and the students too young to go to the ball.

"Furthermore," McGonagall added, "Students are encouraged to bring partners so that nobody is forgotten." She glared at Harry and Ron, who were looking stricken.

"We're _doomed_," Ron whispered to Harry when McGonagall had left the Common Room. Harry nodded glumly.

"When _is _this dance?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged.

"A month and a half," Hermione said brightly from behind them. Harry and Ron turned, startled. 

"You're looking _forward_ to this, Hermione?" Ron asked, incredulously.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said. Then, grinning still more broadly, she added, "I've already been asked to it."

Harry's mouth fell open, and he saw Ron's behaving the same way.

"By _who?_" Harry asked.

"_You?_" Ron said, standing up. "Who asked you?" His ears were very red.

Hermione glared at him. "Not _you!_" 

"That's obvious!" Ron said, nearly shouting now. "But maybe if you'd waited a day or two more, I would have!"

Hermione looked very taken aback. "You _what?_" she said, caught between irritation and confusion.

Ron reddened to the roots of his fiery hair. "Well . . . I mean . . ." he stopped, suddenly aware that most of the students in the Common Room were watching.

"Maybe if you'd collected yourself sooner, I'd have accepted!" Hermione snapped, collected and cool again. "But you just had to wait and see if something better came along!"

"Hermione, it's only been five days," Harry said. "I mean, be reasonable."

Hermione ignored him. "Not all girls are supermodels!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron shouted. "And who asked you, anyway?"

"I'm not going to tell you!" Hermione replied bitingly, and ran up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Nice going, Ron," said Harry. Ron whirled on him, glaring.

"I don't want to hear anything from you! Not anything!"

Harry shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "So who are you going to ask?"

"Not Hermione!" 

"I know that," Harry said. "Cheer up," he added bracingly. "You would never've asked her, anyway."

Ron sank into the chair across from Harry, still angry. "But she could've had the decency to wait a while! And who's she going with, anyway?"

"Does it really matter?" Harry said. "Besides, we need to think of someone to ask, if we're going to go. _I_ don't feel like being the only one without a date . . ." 

Ron eyed a cluster of Gryffindor girls of various ages across the Common Room. "I don't know," he said flatly. "You?"

Harry followed Ron's gaze. "Parvati?"

Ron snorted. "And have her breathing down your neck with dire predictions the whole time, Harry?"

"No, really," Harry said, standing. "I've developed a sudden, passionate love for Parvati. Let me go ask her."

Ron watched, goggle-eyed, as Harry walked across the Common Room to the cluster of girls and tapped Parvati on the shoulder, blushing furiously. "Parvati," he asked, suddenly conscious of eight extra pairs of eyes on him, "Would you go to the Valentine's Ball with me?"

Parvati giggled and looked at her group of friends before turning back to Harry. "Sorry," she said, giggling uncontrollably. "No."

Harry stomped back to where Ron sat watching. "'Spose you thought that was funny," he said savagely.

Ron shook his head morosely and looked in the direction of the staircase to the girl's dormitory. "Now you know how it feels."

---------------------------------

Ginny Weasley desperately wanted to go to the Valentine's Ball, but had little hope of finding a fourth-year student willing to ask her. She wished Harry would, but knew her older brother's friend was far too girl-shy to do so. She had pled with Ron to drop a hint, but Ron had refused – it was Harry's business who he asked or didn't ask. Ron had smiled when he said this, and added that Harry might end up alone at the ball, anyway.

She had half-hoped that one of the other Gryffindor fourth-years would take pity on her – she _so_ wanted to go – but not a week after the announcement Seamus and Lavender agreed to go together, and she didn't want to go with Dean or Neville anyway. She's almost asked Fred or George if _they_ would take her, but decided against it.

Ginny had given up hope, then, and reconciled herself to a normal night in the Common Room with her friends. Which was why, later that evening, she was stunned to find a note penned in red ink slipped into her Transfiguration textbook.

__

XXOXXOXXOXX

Ginny, I really wish you'd go to the

ball with me, (_it read_) Long have I 

admired you, though you may not 

have realized it. Please meet me

atop the Astronomy Tower at eleven

tonight.

Yours ever,

A Secret Admirer

__

XXOXXOXXOXX

Completely baffled, she sank into an armchair near the fire. Who on _earth_ could it be? She stared at the fire, unaware that Jennike Agrilus, a fellow third-year girl, had come up behind her.

"Ooh! A Secret Admirer, Ginny? How exciting!" Jennike draped herself across the arm of Ginny's chair. "Who could it be?"

Ginny sighed irritably. "I don't _know,_ Jennike," she said. "If I knew, would it be a Secret Admirer?"

Jennike giggled. "Well, you know . . . so are you going to go up to the Astronomy Tower?"

"I don't know," Ginny repeated, doubtfully. "Should I?"

Jennike nodded adamantly. "Of _course_. How else would you get to the ball?"

"Are _you_ going?" Ginny asked pointedly.

Jennike giggled again. "Of course," she said. "With Fabricio."

"_Who?_"

"He's in Hufflepuff, and he's _terrific,_" Jennike gushed.

Ginny crumpled the paper up and threw it in the fire. Jennike gasped. "What'd you do that for?"

"Well, I don't need it anymore, do I?" Ginny said witheringly. "I don't think I'll forget it."

"Are you going to _go?_" Jennike persisted.

"Yes," said Ginny. "I might as well see who it is."


	11. 2

****

Chapter 2

Ginny told no one else about her coming excursion to the Astronomy Tower. She went to bed as usual, but at ten forty-five she rose, dressed quietly, and slipped down the dormitory stairs.

There were a few older students still in the Common Room, but none of them paid her any attention as she slid as quietly as possible out of the Portrait Hole. Shushing the Fat Lady, she closed it again and padded down the dark corridor.

Several times she was forced to duck under an ornamental table or squeeze into an unoccupied classroom as teachers or prefects patrolled the hallways, but she managed to reach the Tower stairs without being sighted. Praying that no one else had decided to star-gaze that night, she slipped up the long, winding staircase and onto the top of the Tower. The wind was blowing fiercely, and she wished she had brought her cloak.

Her heart sank as she emerged to find that the Tower was already occupied. The other occupant stood with back to her, wearing a cloak with the hood pulled up. Ginny sighed quietly and walked softly to the other side of the Tower, hoping that whoever it was would go away soon without noticing her.

She waited for a quarter of an hour, the wind whipping through her thin school robes and making her shiver. Still the "Secret Admirer" did not come. She began to wonder if it was all some joke – maybe _Jennike_ had sent that note. Maybe that's why she'd been so enthusiastic about it all. Ginny sighed, and had nearly made up her mind to creep back to her dormitory when her sigh was echoed. She looked around, startled – she had nearly forgotten the cloaked figure across from her. As it turned, she caught a glimpse of a green-and-silver crest and shrank as far into the shadows as she could, hardly breathing. The stranger walked past her without seeming to see, but before it began the winding descent it pushed its hood off with another sigh of exasperation.

Ginny gasped audibly. The hood revealed a shock of pale, white-blond hair. But the face underneath bore none of its usual disgusted malice; instead, it was tired and exasperated.

As he heard Ginny gasp, Malfoy turned, startled. "What are you –," he started, and then stopped, his face a mask of surprise. "Oh," was all he could manage.

Ginny stood still, petrified with fear. She waited for the sneer to set in on Malfoy's face, but instead, he blushed.

"Sorry," he said, avoiding her eyes. 

Ginny was speechless. _He_ was apologizing to _her?_ Would he run the next moment to Professor Snape to turn her in for being out after hours? Was this the Malfoy she knew and loathed?

"I mean . . ." he stopped, clearly embarrassed.

"It's okay," Ginny squeaked, eyeing the stairwell. Could she run past him, perhaps, and make it back to the Gryffindor Tower in time to deny whatever he said?

"I mean . . ." he repeated. He took a deep breath and continued in a rush. "I mean, _I_ was the one who wrote you that note."

Ginny gaped at him, completely lost for words.

"I, uh . . . well, I wanted to know if you'd go to the ball with me." He blew out an irritated breath and jammed his hands in his robe pockets, staring angrily at the ground. "I guess not." He turned to go, his pale hair glinting in the moonlight.

"Wait!" Ginny said, struck by the dejected expression he wore. "No, I – I'm just surprised."

He whirled around, a strangely guarded expression on his face. "You're not just going to send me down?" his voice sounded slightly strangled.

"Well . . . uh . . ." Ginny stopped.

"Would you?" he persisted. "Go to the ball with me?" His face shone hopeful for a moment, but then he turned around again, looking irritated. "No, you wouldn't," he said without looking at her. "I mean, I know I've been a jerk and all, but I thought that maybe you'd just accept right off because, after all, I am pretty good-looking."

Ginny moved closer. "Sure," she said. He spun around again, looking shocked.

"You'll what?" he said, amazed. "You _will?_"

Ginny nodded. "Sure," she repeated.

"Thanks," he said fervently. Then he blushed again, hugged her quickly, and disappeared down the stairs.

"Oh," he called up, "And please call me Draco."

----------------------------------------

"I'll meet you in the Common Room," Hermione told Harry and Ron as they were packing up their Potions utensils. "I have a . . . homework question." She glanced toward the front of the dungeon, where Snape was speaking with Malfoy over a textbook. Harry shrugged and followed Ron out of the dungeon.

"Weird," Ron said as they went out. "You'd think she'd avoid Snape."

"You'd think a lot of things," was all Harry said. He glanced back toward the dungeon, which was rapidly emptying of its students. "Think we should just wait for her?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. How long could she be?"

They walked quietly back to stand outside of the dungeon. After a few moments the crowd of exiting students had dissipated, and Hermione had still not emerged. 

"Think we should rescue her?" Ron asked dubiously in an undertone. Before Harry could reply, they heard voices raised in the dungeon.

"Think of what the _Headmaster _would say!" It was, unmistakably, Hermione. She sounded tense and unusual, and not as if she were discussing homework at all.

"But . . ." Snape's voice was softer, as if he wished to remain unheard.

"Please," said Hermione. "I told you, it'd be a scandal . . ."

"I don't _care_." Snape was urgent, and Harry's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Please, Severus . . ." 

Ron's face mirrored the astounded disgust Harry was experiencing. Had he heard her right?

"Well, all right, then." Snape was irritated. There was the sound of a book being slammed onto stone, and a moment later Hermione emerged from the dungeon. She looked as if she'd been crying.

She stopped when she saw Ron and Harry, and shot them murderous looks before grabbing them both and dragging them along until they were out of earshot of the Potions dungeon.

"Hermione," said Ron in a tone that hovered between astonishment and disgust.

"Well, I told you I'd been asked to the Valentine Ball, hadn't it?" Hermione snapped, walking quickly. Ron did a half-run to catch up with her.

"You mean that – that _thing_ – asked you – his _student_ – to – to go to the Valentine's Ball with – with _him?_"

"Yes," Hermione snapped.

"_That's_ why you wouldn't wait for me?" Ron shouted.

"Well maybe if you'd made any attempt to ask me, I would've listened!" Hermione replied angrily. "But you didn't! Severus asked first, and I had to think about it . . ."

Harry made a disbelieving noise. Hermione whirled on him, her face flaming. "Well, I can't help it!" she said, shooting a murderous glance at Ron. "If he likes me, then . . ."

"Hermione, he's a _professor,_" said Harry incredulously. "He's probably like fifty-something."

"No, he's not," Hermione said, her face crimson. "He's twenty-eight!"

"Right, and you're fifteen," said Harry. "And you're a student."

"_He_ asked _m!_" Hermione said furiously. "_I_ didn't ask _him_!"

Ron muttered something angrily under his breath, earning a wrathful glare from Hermione. "I didn't say yes," she said. "I _know_ how it would look. Besides . . ." she stopped, blushing even more furiously (if that were possible).

"Besides what?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Besides nothing," Hermione muttered. Ron whirled on her, walking backwards up the corridor.

"_What?_" he bellowed. "Did Professor Dumbledore ask you too? Draco Malfoy? Crabbe? Goyle? Are you going to the dance with Justin Finch-Fletchely?"

"No," Hermione said, looking at the floor. "No one else asked me."

"What is it, then?" Ron needled.

"Well, it's just that . . ." suddenly her head snapped up and she glared defiantly at Ron. "If you must know, I've been writing to Sirius!"

Harry choked and dropped his Potions textbook on his toe, yelping at the impact.

"You _what?_" he asked when he had retrieved the tome. "You . . . _Sirius?_ As in, my godfather?"

Hermione nodded. "He's really nice, you know . . ."

Harry stared at her.

"I mean, all he said was that . . ."

"That what?" Ron broke in. "Come off it, Hermione. You're in over your head."

"That he'd like to get to know me better . . ."

"Did you tell him how you've been cozying up to Snape?" Ron demanded. "Bet he'd love that, his girlfriend and his archenemy. He'd –,"

"I'M NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND!" Hermione shouted, near tears. Before Harry could reply, Professor McGonagall hurried toward them.

"As fascinating as your social lives are, no doubt, it is time for your next class," she said icily, eyeing their hands (empty, but for their Potions supplies). "And I see that you are not ready. Ten points from Gryffindor, each, and hurry."

"See what you've done now, Hermione?" Ron asked furiously as McGonagall hurried along the corridor past them. "Thirty points from Gryffindor, and all because you have a crush on Snape!"

Hermione burst into tears and ran past Ron in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower.

"Really, you should give her a break," said Harry dubiously.

"A _break_?" Ron asked incredulously. "When she nearly said she'd let _Snape_ take her to the students' _ball?_"

"Yeah, well, it is a little . . . weird," Harry admitted.

"He's evil!" Ron said fervently. "And all that junk with _Sirius_ . . . come on, Harry, doesn't it make you mad?"

"Well . . . she's still my friend," Harry defended. "Even if she, uh, has some dorky love interests." He sighed. "And we'll probably be expected to grow to love Snape."

Ron stared at him. "WHAT?"

"Well, it's what happens all the time in this sort of clichéd existence," Harry said morosely.

"You – _what?_" Ron repeated, completely baffled.

"I mean, we are in a fanfiction, aren't we?"

"What on earth do you mean?"

Harry sighed again. "Well, I guess I'm speaking hypothetically. Because, you know, fan fiction characters have a tendency to speak in the third person in this sort of thing. So if we _were_ . . ."

"You're definitely nuts," said Ron disgustedly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.


	12. 3

****

Chapter 3

"I'm going to ask Parvati Patil to the Valentine's ball," Ron said determinedly the next morning at breakfast. He eyed Parvati, who was chatting unconcernedly with Lavender Brown. "I might as well get a pretty girl." He glowered at Hermione – the two had not been on speaking terms since the day before.

"Ron, I asked her," Harry reminded him. "She's going with someone."

"Oh." Ron was silent a moment, then, "Who?"

"She didn't say," Harry said.

"What _did_ she say?" Ron pressed.

"'No, sorry'", Harry replied. "I think."

Ron brightened. "Maybe she _isn't_ going with anyone! Maybe she just didn't want to go with you, Harry . . .

Harry stared at him. "Thanks a lot," he muttered darkly.

"Can I sit here?"

Harry and Ron slid over to make room for Ginny, who looked very tired.

"Where have _you_ been?" Ron asked her. "Somewhere at midnight last night?"

Ginny blushed and looked down at her plate. Ron groaned.

"You _have_, haven't you?"

Ginny nodded slightly. "Yeah," she said softly, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Where?" Ron pressed. 

Ginny became even redder, blushing to the roots of her crimson hair. "The Astronomy Tower," she admitted.

"WHAT?" Ron exploded. "Why? That's so stupid, Ginny . . ."

"I got a note," Ginny said defiantly. "I got asked to the ball."

Ron gave a low whistle. "Some romantic date, nearly getting you expelled."

"I didn't get caught!" Ginny protested. "And now I can go to the ball."

"She's right, you know," Hermione said philosophically. "It _will_ be great. I can understand why you didn't want to miss it, Ginny. So who asked you?"

Ginny turned scarlet and glanced across the Great Hall to where the Slytherins sat, noisily enjoying their breakfast.

"Well?" Harry asked, interested in spite of himself.

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny mumbled. Hermione and Ron stared, aghast.

"That's okay," said Harry mildly. "You see, I've suddenly undergone a wild change of heart and now I regard Draco Malfoy as one of my best friends. I can see why you, as a girl, might find him attractice, Ginny. Congratulations. However, I must admit I'm still harboring jealous emotions as befits a wounded admirer, for of course you've guessed that I planned on asking you to the ball myself."

Ginny stared at Harry, utterly dumbfounded. "You _what?_" she squeaked.

Harry shrugged. "It's true."

"You were – you would –,"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Ginny – do you mean to say that Malfoy – _Malfoy_ – is taking you to the Valentine's Ball?" Ron sputtered. Ginny nodded and looked down at her plate again, then back at Harry.

"But if you – if you still –,"

"Sure, I still want to ask you," said Harry reasonably. "But you see, now I'm hurt and so even if you turn Malfoy down, it'll take me time and a few other girls to come back to you, since I'll have to nurse my emotional wounds. So it might take a while."

"Harry?" Hermione said from his other side. "Are you feeling all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, why shouldn't I be?"

"You're acting awfully strange . . ." she glanced at Ginny. "I've never heard you say things like that about Draco Malfoy before."

"Oh, it's all in the rule book," Harry explained nonchalantly. "You know – _How To Be A Hero._ If my secret love is asked to a ball by my archenemy, my feelings for him will change, you see? It's very clearly stated."

Ron choked. Ginny, after taking a last, bewildered look at Harry, fled.

------------------------------

Harry and Ron made their way through the thick crowd towards Charms class. Ron was gloating in an undertone to Harry – he had asked Parvati that afternoon to the ball and she'd said yes.

"WHAT?" Harry had exploded when Ron told him. "She said yes to you, but no to _me_?" 

Ron shrugged. "Yeah."

Harry fumed. "Who will _I_ go with, then?"

"Hermione?"

"After what she tried to pull? No thank you."

"Ginny?"

"She's going with _him._" They both gave a collective shudder.

"Harry!" Harry turned, trying to see who had called him. Cho Chang, a sixth-year Ravenclaw, was fighting her way toward him. She waved a quill. "You dropped this!"

"Oh, thanks!" Harry called back, and stood still as the student body surged past him. In a moment, Cho had pulled level with him and handed him the quill. "Thanks," he repeated.

"Oh – it's not a problem," Cho said, blushing unexpectedly.

"Hey," said Harry, struck by a sudden thought. "Would you go to the Valentine's ball with me?"

Cho nodded and ducked her head. "Sure," she said. "I'm completely besotted with you, you know, Harry . . ."

"Really?" Harry said. "Cool. Well, see you later." He hurried after Ron.

"Cho is going to the ball with me!" he said exultantly once he had caught up with his friend. 

"Really?" Ron said icily, and turned away.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, pressing forward.

"You were _supposed_ to ask Ginny," Ron said just as coldly. "Besides, Cho likes Cedric."

"But – but –," Harry stopped, lost for words.

"Can't you ever get anything right?" Ron asked over his shoulder. Harry sighed.

------------------------------


	13. 4

****

Chapter 4

The next few days passed in relative peace, and the school buzzed with excitement as the date of the Valentine's Ball neared. On the fourth day since the Ball's announcement, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were together in the Gryffindor Common Room, struggling to complete their enormous load of Potions homework before the next day, when it was all due.

"Hemione?" Ron asked plaintively, not looking up from the one-thousand page _101 Magical Herbs and Fungi_ laid across his lap. "What are the healing properties of toadspraggle?"

Hermione glared sternly at Ron, shifting her knees about under _Potions for the Very Stupid_. "Do your own homework," she said in a voice very reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

Ron moaned hopelessly and turned back to the enormous textbook.

"A cure for toothache," Harry muttered to his friend when Hermione wasn't listening.

_Thanks,_ mouthed Ron, and Harry grinned.

A moment later, Hermione, closed her textbook with a snap. "I'm done," she said, sounding very self-satisfied as she shoved the thick book back into her bag. "What about you?"

"Nope," Harry replied dismally, and looked once more at the worksheet on sarca he was supposed to be filling out.

Ron didn't answer, contenting himself with giving Hermione a nasty look when she turned to pick up her bag to carry it up the stairs and into her dormitory.

"Harry," Ron moaned as soon as Hermione was out of earshot, "We're doomed! As soon as Snape sees we haven't done our homework, we'll be expelled, we'll have detention . . . he'll take a hundred points from Gryffindor . . ."

Harry nodded glumly. "Hey," he said, brightening, after a moment. "At least we won't have to go to the Valentine's Ball."

This only made Ron moan louder. "But now we've finally got dates!" he pointed out. "Now it's something to look forward to."

"In a manner of speaking," Harry shot back. He was still feeling guilty for not asking Ginny when she and Ron both so obviously had expected it.

"That's right," Ron said after a moment, and shot his friend a dirty look. "I forgot who you asked. And _didn't_ ask. And," he added pointedly, "Who is now stuck going with You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort?" Harry said as a reflex, then stopped, startled. "I mean, Malfoy?"

Ron shook his head in disbelief and resumed his frenzied perusal of _101 Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

A moment later Hermione returned, bagless and frowning.

"I've just realized something terrible," she said unhappily. "The Valentine's Ball is a week away and I haven't got a date. What's worse," she added pointedly, "The two of you have."

"Well of cousre," Harry said philosophically, in one of the odd bursts of out-of-character-ness that his friends were becoming accustomed to. "In fanfiction, writers always seem to portray me as a dashing heartthrob whom everyone loves. Therefore I never have any trouble finding dates, even though in real life I'm bumbling, nervous, and can hardly gather up the courage to ask a girl to hand me back my quill. It's really very simple."

"Right," said Hermione skeptically. "Whatever you say, Harry. But I still haven't got a date for the Valentine's Ball," she said, and looked very pointedly at Ron.

Ron looked innocently away, struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

"It's not funny!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Why don't you ask _Snape_ to the Ball?" Ron said loudly, causing several heads to turn in their direction. Hermione turned a bright shade of scarlet.

"Shhh!" she hissed. "And I've already gone through this, he's a teacher, it –,"

"You said he's only thirty," Ron said sarcastically.

"Twenty-eight," Hermione defended hotly. "But still, it would be bad."

"Then what about Sirius?" Harry broke in. 

"Listen, will you two just lay off!"

To Harry's surprise, Hermione burst into tears and fled up the stairs to her dormitory.

"That was odd," said Ron. 

Harry nodded. "Wonder what upset her?"

---------------------

"Listen, Draco," Ginny said seriously. She and Malfoy were sitting under a tree by the lake, out of view of the main body of students. Seeing Malfoy so – well – _decent_ still put Ginny on her guard, but she was beginning to value him as a friend.

"Mm?" he asked languidly, and tossed a stone into the black waters of the lake. There was a ripple and a deep rumbling as the Giant Squid investigated the stone before returning to its deep home.

"I don't – I think – maybe –," she stopped and drew a breath. "Ican'tgototheballwithyou."

Malfoy stared. "Huh?"

"I can't go to the ball with you," Ginny said miserably. "I think – I mean – well . . ."

Malfoy stared some more, seeming to get angry. "Fine," he snapped. "I know, I know, you want to go with Potter, don't you? I guess you don't care he already has a date." He stood, brushing the grass from his robes and looking much more normal than he had for days. "I'll go ask Granger, then."

Ginny choked in surprise as her ex-date fled the lakeside. Hermione? Draco was going to ask _Hermione?_ This Valentine's Ball thing was getting weirder every day. She shook her head in amazement, stood, and went off to find Harry.

------------------

"You WHAT?" Ron bellowed, causing several students in the Common Room to look their way.

"Don't shout at me, you've already got a date!" Hermione replied, close to tears. "And I hadn't! I think he's nice!"

Ron choked. "You didn't think he was so nice when he was going with _Ginny_," he snapped. "And who's to say I want to go with Parvati Patil anyhow?"

"Are you saying you want to ask me?" Hermione asked frostily.

"No!" Ron replied quickly. "But what if I did?"

"Then you should have done it two weeks ago!"

Seething, Hermione whirled around and stormed up the stairs to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Ron was left, open-mouthed and fuming, in the Common Room.

A moment later, Harry clambered through the portrait hole. He was clutching a very large, very heavy spellbook in one hand, his wand in the other, and he looked distinctly pleased with himself.

"Well, that's it," he said happily. "I've got the Hacklebury Hex to an art, maybe I'll actually pass it on the exams this year. Say, Ron," he said, stopping as he saw Ron's face. "What's the matter?"

"Hermione," Ron muttered angrily. "She's – get this – going to the Ball with _Malfoy_."

Harry shuddered. "I thought he was going with Ginny?" he said. "Whatever happened?"

"Ginny told him she didn't want to," Ron said. "She wanted to go with _someone else,_" he added pointedly, but Harry did not seem to notice.

"This Valentine's Ball thing is getting worse every day," Harry said. "What d'you bet Hermione'll end up going with Crabbe, you'll get McGonagall and I'll take Milicent Bulstrode?"

"The way things are going now, it's fair likely," Ron replied, still sulking.

"So who does Ginny want to go with?" Harry asked after a moment, laying _Three Thousand Hexes for the Defenseless_ on the table before them and tucking his wand back into his robes. 

"I should think it's obvious," Ron said frostily, sounding uncannily reminiscent of Hermione. 

Harry looked nonplussed. "Neville?" he said, spotting Ginny and Neville chatting in a corner of the Common Room.

Ron gave a disgusted snort. "'Course not," he said dismissively. "Someone – famous."

Harry groaned. "You can't mean _me?_"

"'Course I do," Ron said, brightening. "You going to ask her, then?"

"I've asked Cho!" Harry said in horror. "What am I s'posed to do about that?"

"Tell her you can't go?" Ron replied unhelpfully.

"You're no help," Harry said, and – taking _Three Thousand Hexes_, he ran up to his dormitory. 

Ron was left in the Common Room, looking in bewilderment after Harry.

"What was that all about?" he asked himself, and sighed.

"This is way too complicated."


	14. 5

****

Chapter 5

With three days to go to the ball, it seemed as if all was settled. Ron seemed a little more reconciled to going with Parvati, Harry – though nervous – was very excited to have an evening with Cho, and Hermione and Draco had been disappearing for short periods of time all throughout the week.

"It's disgusting," Ron told Harry while they were alone in the Common Room one morning. "Hermione and Malfoy? Whatever happened to that punch she gave him last year?"

"Dunno," said Harry, engrossed in Potions homework. "Say, Ron…" he shot Ron an uncomfortable look. "Does Ginny have another date?"

Ron turned stony-faced. "No," he said coldly. "Didn't think it'd matter to you if she did."

"Listen, Ron," Harry began heatedly, but just at that moment Hermione entered through the portrait hole. She was flushed and smiling and looked suspiciously like she'd just run all the way from the edge of the lake.

"Hello!" she trilled, and sat down between Harry and Ron.

Harry stared at her for a moment. Hermione never _trilled_ anything. "Have you been meeting Malfoy again?" he asked sharply.

Hermione shook her head. 

"Who were you with?" Ron shot. "Obviously it was someone. Who was it? Malfoy? Crabbe? Goyle?"

"No!" Hermione said, her smile disappearing. "If you must know, it was…Severus."

Ron choked. "That's even worse!" he shouted. "First you agree to go to the ball with Malfoy, then you start sneaking out for secret rendezvous with _Snape!_"

"Come off it, Ron, it wasn't a 'secret rendezvous' at all! We were just talking."

Harry gave a disgusted shudder. "I dunno how you can stand them, Hermione," he began, but Hermione cut him off with a look fit to kill.

"Don't you start, too!" she said. "Honestly, I don't know why I hang around the two of you…if you can't appreciate someone else's relationships!"

She jumped up, her right hand clutching a letter. "I'm going upstairs!"

"Hey, Hermione, is that a letter from _Severus_?" Ron asked jeeringly, pointing at the parchment in her hand.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "It's none of your business who it's from!"

"Who?" Harry asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Remus," Hermione snapped defiantly. Then she whirled and ran up the girls' staircase.

"She seems to be doing that a lot lately," Harry said. "Running away to her dorm."

Ron was watching her, his jaw slack in amazement. "Remus?" he said, his voice cracking. "Remus _Lupin?_ _Professor Lupin?_"

"S'pose so, how many other Remuses could there be?"

Ron shook his head incredulously. "This is getting worse all the time."

----------------

"Listen, Harry, I'm really sorry," Cho said. "But…" she sighed. "I like Cedric better," she finished after a short hesitation.

Harry felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Fine then," he said bitingly, "Go with Cedric, see what _I_ care." He turned on his heel and marched back to the Common Room, shaking with anger.

"Cho just canceled on me!" he fumed to Ron and Hermione. Sinking into an armchair, he shot red sparks at the ceiling to ease his frustration. "She said she'd go with me! But she just now pulled me aside and told me she couldn't because _she likes Cedric better!_"

"I'm really, really, sorry, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically. "I know what you mean."

Ron grinned. "You know what this means, right, mate?"

Harry looked nonplussed and rather annoyed. "No," he snapped. "Well, yes. It means I no longer have a date for the Valentine's Ball!"

"How much thicker can you _get_?" Ron asked in disgust.

"I don't know what you mean!" Harry said furiously. "If you'd talk English maybe I'd get what you're trying to tell me –,"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I – am – saying – you – should – ask – Ginny," he said patiently.

"_What?_" Harry said in confusion. "_Ginny?_ Why Ginny?"

Hermione gave a derisive snort. "Honestly, Harry, can you be any _more_ stupid?" she asked icily.

"No, I know what you mean," Harry defended. "But why would I ask Ginny?"

Now both Ron and Hermione were staring at him in utter amazement. "Oh, I dunno," Ron said sarcastically. "Maybe 'cause she's only had a crush on you for like four years…maybe cause neither of you have dates…maybe cause I've been telling you to for two weeks…"

"Hey," said Harry suddenly. "What if I asked her to the Ball? Think she'd like that?"

Ron and Hermione both groaned.

---------------------

"Hey, Ginny," Ron said matter-of-factly to his younger sister that evening in the Great Hall. "Harry wants to ask you to go to the Valentine's Ball with him."

Harry choked on a sip of pumpkin juice. "_Ron!_" he said furiously once he'd finished coughing. "Thanks a lot, some friend you are!"

"Very romantic, Ron," Ginny said sarcastically. "But sure, I'll go."

Harry stared. "You mean you want to go with me?"

"Of course," was Ginny's nonchalant reply. "I would've thought you'd've guessed it by now, really."

Ron laughed, although Harry didn't see what was funny about it. "All right," he said. "Now – unless you dump me too, Ginny – I can sit back and relax until the day of the Ball."

Hermione slid into a seat beside them, looking stressed. "Hello," she said while filling her plate with food.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked coldly. "Off with _Draco?_"

Hermione flushed a deep scarlet. "No!" she said hotly. "I have _not_ been!"

"Writing to Sirius, then?" Ron retored.

"No!"

"Lupin?"

"_No!_"

"I get it," said Ron mockingly. "You've been down in the dungeons visiting _Severus._"

"Well – yes!" Hermione cried, her eyes filling with tears. "And what if I have?"

Ginny choked on a mouthful of tart. "_Snape?_" she said faintly.

Hermione nodded, blushing even deeper – if that was possible. 

"Hermione's got quite the tangled love life going here," Ron said icily to his sister. "She's secretly meeting Snape, writing to Sirius _and_ Lupin, and she's going to the Ball with Draco Malfoy. Next I suppose we'll hear she's having a secret letter affair with Cornelius Fudge," he said in tones of disgust.

Hermione choked, blushing so dark it was nearly purple. "He's rather nice, you know," she said in a very small voice.

Ron gasped, spluttering pumpkin juice all over Fred, who was sitting opposite him. "YOU WHAT?" he bellowed, causing several of the nearby Gryffindors to swivel around and watch the interchange. "YOU DON'T MEAN YOU _ARE_ WRITING TO HIM – ARE YOU?"

Hermione nodded, not meeting Ron's eyes. 

"You can't mean to say you're actually writing _Fudge_?" Harry asked incredulously from Hermione's other side. "Not the Minister of Magic? And…" he shuddered slightly, "_romantically_?"

"Yeah well, Hermione's proven her lack of taste in men," Ron said darkly. Harry followed his gaze to Snape, seated at the staff table, looking – if possible – greasier than usual.

"Say Hermione," said Ron loudly a moment later. "Is it possible for you to be interested in a man who washes his hair? Or is entirely human? Or isn't wanted by wizard law? Or has one ounce of respect for Muggle-born wizards?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, really crying now. Her face had not lost its crimson hue, as the majority of the Gryffindor students in the hall watched the dialogue with great interest. "That was really low, Ron…you know Remus is fine! And Sirius, he's innocent!"

"And Snape, and Malfoy?" Ron retorted. "What about them?"

"Well…" Hermione bit her lip. "Listen, we'll talk about this later," she said, conscious of nearly a hundred highly interested pairs of eyes on her.

"No," said Ron loudly. "I want to talk about it _now_."

"Well –," Hermione stopped, drew a deep breath, and said in a hissing whisper – "If you hadn't been so stupid, if you'd have asked me to the ball before anyone else did, I would've said yes.

Ron, who had been preparing for another shouting match, stopped. He looked suddenly as if he'd been hit over the head with a large Muggle frying pan; his jaw slack, his eyes large as Galleons.

"You WHAT?" he gasped after a moment. 

"I would have said yes," said Hermione in a very small voice. "But you didn't…and so I said yes to Malfoy instead."

With that she stood, tears rolling freely down her cheeks, and fled the Great Hall.

"Girls," said Ron in disgust as he watched her go.

His eyes on Ginny, Harry could only agree.


	15. 6 FINAL CHAPTER

****

Chapter 6

"Ron…" Harry looked uneasily at his best friend. It was past midnight and they were the last ones in the Common Room, bending bleary-eyed over overdue Potions homework. He swallowed hard. "I reckon Hermione wants you to take her to the Valentine's Ball."

Ron gave an indignant splutter. "I doubt it," he said coldly, "seeing as she's currently involved in meetings with all of my worst enemies."

"Well…you like Sirius, don't you?" Harry said, feeling rather as if he was trying to save a drowning ship. "And Professor Lupin? And Fudge is okay…" in spite of himself, Harry grimaced. "Okay, maybe not, but still…"

He expected another outburst from Ron, but instead he looked up to see the red-haired boy eyeing him thoughtfully. "D'you _really_ think she'd like it if I asked her?" he asked.

Harry nodded vigorously. "Of course," he said. He neglected to mention the fact that it was Hermione who'd ordered him to carry out this conversation in the first place.

"Then I will," said Ron decisively. "Parvati can find someone else, I can tell she wasn't thrilled about going with me anyhow."

And with that, they went to bed.

---------------------

"Um…Hermione," Ron said the next morning at breakfast. His ears flamed brighter than his hair; Hermione, noticing, hid a smile.

"Yes?" she asked with studied nonchalance. 

"I…er….well…." Ron drew a deep breath. "Wannagoaballwithme?" he mumbled.

Harry, from the other side of the table, snorted. "Even I didn't understand what that was," he said. 

Ron glared at him and muttered, "Helpful this morning, aren't we."

Harry grinned and took a bite of toast.

"Anyway," Ron said to Hermione desperately, "Will you…"

Hermione looked utterly nonplussed, her gaze drifting from Ron to Harry and back again. Finally it seemed to dawn on her, and she nodded vigorously.

"Sure," she said, and Harry noticed she sounded immensely pleased. "Malfoy'll just have to find someone else."

"This is more like the Hermione I know," Harry muttered to Ron as Hermione turned to talk to Ginny, beside her. 

"You've forgotten the love letters," Ron said in a hollow voice. "And _Severus_. But," he added, brightening, "she doesn't seem to care for Malfoy much after all, does she?"

"Not a bit," Harry said, hoping very much that it was true.

---------------------

The Great Hall had been decorated in blushing reds and pinks for the Ball, and the four long House tables had vanished, to be replaced by small round tables around the edges of the dance floor. As Harry nervously entered the Hall, Ginny close beside him, he was pleasantly surprised by the fact that it didn't look nearly so horrible as he'd expected.

"It's beautiful," Ginny said, and Harry – though he didn't know about _beautiful_ – nodded. 

"Yeah," he said, and felt very nervous all at once. "Er…d'you want to sit down?"

"Sure," Ginny agreed immediately. They sat; a few moments later, Ron and Hermione came over to join them.

With Ron and Hermione there, it was easier for Harry to fall into a conversation. After they had eaten their light dinner and stood up to dance the butterflies returned, but as he danced awkwardly and talked less so with Ginny, he realized he wasn't doing so badly as he had expected…in fact, he thought in surprise, maybe even enjoying it.

--------------------------

After the Ball was over Harry walked Ginny back to Gryffindor Tower, Ron and Hermione not far behind. The Common Room was crowded, but not as noisy as usual; the four of them sat in armchairs near the fire.

When they had exhausted every possible subject, from house-elves to detention to that night's Ball, Ron yawned and announced his intention to retire.

Hermione stood too. "It's getting late," she said. "And we _do_ have classes tomorrow."

As she turned to go, Harry noticed a small white parchment fluttering out of the small purse she was carrying. He stooped to retrieve it and was surprise when Hermione snatched it out of his fingers, blushing crimson.

"Good night," she said hastily, and turned to go up the girls' stairs.

"What was that, Hermione?" Ron asked, the good feeling between them dissipating rapidly. "A letter from Lupin? Sirius? Fudge, maybe?"

"No," Hermione muttered and tried to leave again. Ron snatched the letter from her hand and began to open it. After a few futile attempts to grab it back, Hermione sank back into an armchair and put her flaming face to her hands.

Ron's jaw dropped as he read the letter. "'Er – _my_ – knee," he said hoarsely when he had finished. "This is a _joke_, right?"

Hermione shook her head miserably.

"What?" Harry asked, curious in spite of himself. "Who is it, Lucius Malfoy?"

"Worse," Ron said stonily. "Much, much worse." He began to read in a loud, mocking voice.

"_Dear Hermione,_" he read. "_I cannot deny the thrill I feel when I receive your letters. It all changes when I hear from you. You make me feel positively…human again. I've wanted so many things in my life…world domination, defeat of Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter's death. (Harry Potter: the Boy Who Simply Won't Die. How I hate him.)_" Here Ron stopped, a greenish tinge to his face.

"Go on," Harry croaked.

"_But now I realize,_" Ron continued, "_That all I need, all I ever needed, was you, Hermione._" Now he looked as if he might be sick; hastily, Harry grabbed the letter and continued its reading.

"_When you call me Tom,_" Harry said, suddenly feeling quite as sick as Ron looked, "_It makes me feel so wonderful. No one else calls me Tom, except for Dumbledore, and that's just demeaning. Your 'Dear Tom's make me happier than Ginny Weasley's ever did, Hermione. I lived for years for the sake of living, but now I live for the sake of love._"

"Hermione," Harry said faintly, looking up from the letter. "Is this from who I think it's from?"

Hermione nodded, tears streaming down her face.

Harry skipped to the end of the letter to find the signature. It was there, just as he had feared –

__

I remain now and forever your ardent admirer.

Love,

Voldemort

The End Author's Note – Yes, I am certifiably insane. If you must know, I am actually writing this from the closed ward in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. No, I should not be allowed near a computer ever, ever, again. __

However, I did NOT come up with the Hermione/Voldemort idea. Well…I sort of did. But Iaurore helped a lot, so blame her too.

Next installment coming soon!!! This'll be a Crossover AND a Mary-Sue…and the Interlude'll be interesting too. Look out for Professor Trelawney's 3rd real prediction!

-Emma Kathryn-


	16. INTERLUDE TWO The Third Prediction

****

INTERLUDE II

__

The Third Prediction

Harry, still shocked by the disastrous letter Hermione'd received, climbed wearily into bed and drew the hangings. He fell quickly into a deep dreamless sleep.

Only a moment later (or so it seemed) he opened his eyes once more, only to find himself back in the stone picture-lined chamber.

"This is getting really strange," he muttered, struggling to his feet. As he did so he felt his glasses slide from his face, and leaned back down to grope around the stone dungeon floor to find them.

When his hand connected with the plastic frame, he grabbed them and jammed them back onto his nose. Once more he tried to stand – this time, he realized too late that his shoelace was caught on a stone protruding from the chamber floor – wildly, he thrust out his arms toward the walls in a mad effort to regain his balance –

– and as he did so, he felt his hand slide through something fluid – with a start, he realized it'd come to land on one of the moving pictures that lined the wall – 

The dungeon began to whirl around him in swirls of grey, but this time he did not black out. Instead, a moment later, he found that the world was stationery once more, and that he had fallen face-first to the floor of a classroom.

He couldn't help but groan as he saw _which_ classroom; large, fluffy poufs and armchairs dotted the rooms, ranged around little tables. On each table was placed a crystal ball – it was, Harry realized with a sinking feeling, Trelawney's room.

As if to confirm his unspoken thought, a dreamy voice spoke to him from behind.

"Hello," the Divination teacher said mistily. "I Saw your visit and therefore decided to wait for you here instead of joining the rest of the castle at supper," she continued. "My Inner Eye was right, I see."

Harry stifled the urge to point out that Trelawney rarely joined the rest of the castle at supper; instead, he simply eyed the teacher in mild confusion. He was still trying to work out how he'd got here – had he touched a picture of Trelawney, perhaps? And why hadn't he blacked out, like he had those other times? He was beginning to consider going to Dumbledore, beginning to wonder if he was going insane. . . .

"What is it that brings you to my lonely tower?" Trelawney was asking, sounding as if half of her was in some other galaxy. "Have you –,"

Suddenly she stopped, going suddenly rigid. Harry stared, utterly nonplussed. She couldn't be. . .the only other time he'd seen her like this was in his third year, when she delivered a true vision. . .it couldn't be happening now – or could it?

"**_It is happening now,"_** the Divination professor said in a voice that was very unlike her usual dreamy tones. "**_It has been foreseen since the release of The Fellowship of the Ring, and later The Two Towers, and now, with the release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_** –," Harry's insides gave a little flip at this –"**_It is now that it happens. No resident of Fantasy will be safe; all must be on their guard as the Enemy appears within our midst: for if we are not careful, our lives and our bookverses will be destroyed by rampant Mary Sues . . . we must be careful . . . we must . . ."_** She stopped suddenly, and her eyelids fluttered behind her magnifying spectacles.

"Funny. . .I didn't think I was the least bit tired," she said with a small false laugh. "Sorry about that, my dear . . . now, what were you saying?"

Harry was staring at her in unabashed confusion. Rampant Mary Sues? What on earth could that mean? And what was _The Fellowship of the Ring_ or _The Two Towers_? Or, for that matter, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix?_ Had it something to do with Fawkes?

"Nothing, Professor," he heard himself saying. "I'll be going now . . . sorry to disturb you . . ."

Without another word, he turned and fled down the ladder. But in his haste he missed a rung, and found himself falling – falling to the hard floor beneath – he hit his head, and groaned at the impact – and then the scenery began to whirl, and –

He was back in the stone chamber.

"That was weird," he said softly to himself. His mind was still in turmoil over the odd escapade, and the Divination teacher's words – what on _earth_ was a Mary Sue? – and he didn't seem to notice as his fingers brushed another one of the pictures lining the wall.

He groaned as the chamber began to swirl again. A moment later he landed with a dull thud on something uncomfortably solid; then it all turned black, and he knew nothing more.


	17. STORY THREE So Sue Me Chapter 1

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STORY THREE

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So Sue Me

Chapter 1

"Harry! _Harry!_"

Harry opened his eyes groggily, to find himself presented with the concerned face of Hermione hovering above his own. Ron stood behind her, looking worried.

"Huh?" Harry said thickly, struggling to sit up. Everything was bleary and out of focus. "I can't see," he added stupidly after a moment.

"Oh," said Hermione, her expression lightening a bit. "Here." She fumbled in her robes and produced his glasses. Harry took them, feeling grateful and disoriented.

"Are you all right?" Ron blurted as Harry shoved his glasses back on.

"I think so," Harry said. "What happened?"

Hermione bit her lip. "You can't remember?"

"No," Harry replied, slightly irritated.

"You were sending an owl," Hermione said after a moment. "You slipped, and hit your head. You kind of blacked out," she added, looking slightly upset.

"I'm fine now," Harry said a little too loudly, and stood up. He could see now that they were in the owlery. Funny – he couldn't remember coming up to send an owl. Last he knew he'd been having that funny dream again, the one with the picture chamber. . .

"Er," said Harry awkwardly. "I think I don't remember. Who was I owling?"

Ron gave him an anxious look. "You mean you don't remember?" he said.

Harry shook his head. "Who was it?"

"Elrond," Hermione informed him. "You really don't know?"

Harry stared at her. "_Who?_"

Hermione gave him an odd look. "You know, Elrond," she said impatiently.

"Wh—," Harry began, but stopped mid-sentence. Obviously he was supposed to know who this Elrond was – especially if, as Hermione claimed, he'd been in the act of sending him a letter before – before – whatever it was happened.

"Listen, it's almost time for dinner," Hermione said, eyeing the setting sun anxiously. "We'd better go down."

"Yeah," said Harry distractedly, and followed them from the owlery.

Dinner in the Great Hall was noisy as usual. Harry, Ron, and Hermione slid into seats near the rest of the Weasleys.

"Look at that girl," Fred said admiringly the moment they had sat down. He motioned toward the staff table – Harry noticed with a jolt that an extra chair had been placed there. It was now occupied by a dazzlingly beautiful girl, with long, shining black hair and silvery-purple eyes. Harry blinked; looking at her eyes was rather hard, as they seemed undecided as to whether they ought to be silver or purple.

"She's new," George added, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "Think she's s'posed to be Sorted tonight. Say, Harry," he continued, turning to Harry with a grin. "You probably know her already, right? She's Elrond's daughter."

"Uh . . . no – I mean, yeah . . . I don't think so," Harry floundered. "I don't think I've seen her, I mean." He wondered once again, utterly confused, who 'Elrond' was.

"Well, Professor McGonagall said she spent most of her life in Mirkwood and Lothlorien," said Ginny from across the table. "McGonagall's really happy to have her back – I've never seen her like this before –,"

Harry was, by now, completely lost. "Yeah," he muttered, still staring at the girl seated beside Professor McGonagall.

Their conversation was cut off as Dumbledore rose, tapping his goblet for silence. It fell almost immediately, and the Headmaster beamed.

"We have a special guest tonight," he announced. "May we please welcome Legolawen, Princess of the Istari."

There was a loud round of applause; Harry noticed that even those students seated at the Slytherin table were clapping wildly.

When quiet had descended once more, Dumbledore continued. "Some of you may know of her, as she is the daughter of our own Professor McGonagall, who is very happy to have Legolawen with us for the remainder of this year."

He reached down and retrieved the Sorting Hat from where it had sat by his feet and waved it aloft (_Bet it doesn't like that much,_ Harry thought absently). "Now, Legolawen –," he made a few quick motions with his wand and a stool appeared in front of the staff table – "Prepare for your Sorting." He waved his wand again and the Sorting Hat floated gently along the staff table, coming to rest atop the stool.

Legolawen stood, her ebony hair swishing dazzlingly as she approached the stool. Harry noticed that her robes, unlike most of those worn by Hogwarts students, were an icy purple (perfectly matching her eyes, he noted) decorated with a delicate vine pattern. They were undoubtedly the most interesting – not to mention beautiful – robes he had ever seen.

She lifted the Sorting Hat with long, delicate fingers decorated with many twining silver rings, sat on the stool, and placed the Hat on her head. Her violet eyes fluttered closed for a moment; she was the picture of perfect repose. Remembering his own nerve-wracking Sorting, Harry could only be jealous.

For several minutes – the longest period of decision Harry had ever seen – the Hat was silent. Legolawen seemed to be mentally conversing with it, still looking serene and beautiful beneath the tattered grey rim. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the rip at the brim of the Hat opened, and a moment later it proclaimed its choice – 

"GRYFFINSLYTHERHUFFLECLAW!"

Pandemonium erupted in the Hall; never before had the Hat shouted such an unintelligible House name. Dumbledore stood, raising his arms commandingly; a moment later silence fell once more.

"It seems," said Dumbledore, his clear eyes twinkling merrily, "That our Sorting Hat has met a dilemma. Princess Legolawen possesses so many admirable qualities that it has been unable to make a final decision regarding House placement. So Legolawen will be free to spend time with whatever House she wishes; in each, a bed in a dormitory and a spot by the fire shall be held welcomingly open for her whenever she wishes to visit."

Legolawen stood then, placing the Sorting Hat gently back on its stool. "I am honored by such a sentiment," she said, and her voice was musical, with a slight accent Harry couldn't place. "But my loyalty shall always be to Gryffindor, and to my mother." 

McGonagall beamed – funny, Harry thought, he didn't think he'd ever seen her _beam_ before – stood, and embraced Legolawen. There were tears in both their eyes, clearly visible through the hall.

"Now," said Dumbledore jovially, "Let us resume our banquet! Legolawen, you may choose any of these four tables to dine at this evening."

Legolawen smiled and thanked Dumbledore, and then made a beeline for one of the tables – with a jolt, Harry realized it was his own. With even more surprise he noticed that the beautiful new student was heading right in his direction . . .

"Move _over_, Hermione," Ron was demanding loudly. Hermione snorted in exasperation, but Ron pushed her anyway. "Here, Princess," he shouted loudly. "Sit here, here's a spot!"

Hearing him, Legolawen glided over and – to Harry's astonishment and great joy – sat between the two of them.

"Thank you," she said, her voice like a tinkling silver bell. Ron's jaw had gone slack, and he was staring rapturously at Legolawen. 

"Ah . . . you're welcome," he said. Hermione, from his other side, gave another derisive snort. 

Legolawen turned to Harry, her silvery-purple eyes luminous. Harry felt his own jaw go slack as he stared into the icy violet depths, losing himself in their power . . . sure, they _were_ kind of giving him a headache, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers . . .

" . . . Potter," Legolawen finished. With a start, Harry realized she'd been talking to him.

"Er, yeah . . . uh, what was that?" he asked in confusion. 

"You must be Harry Potter," Legolawen repeated with a dazzling smile.

"Yeah . . . he is . . . I mean, I am . . ." he felt vaguely disoriented, as though he had just woken up from a very deep sleep.

"_Mae govannen,_" Legolawen said. Harry stared.

"My _what?_" he asked in confusion.

"_Mae govannen,_" Legolawen repeated, and a slight crease appeared between her brows. "Surely you know the greeting?"

Harry shook his head in befuddlement. "No . . . I don't think I do . . ." he said faintly. His head was beginning to throb painfully from the effort of meeting her swirling bicolored gaze, but (he thought) what was a little pain when he was so obviously in love?

"Sorry," Legolawen said, sounding confused – but no less beautiful – now. "It is a greeting among my people – I felt sure that you would have heard it before, being as you are often in contact with my father and the Elves –,"

"Oh," said Harry, finally seeming to understand. "You mean House-Elves? Well, I'm not really in _contact_ with any very often – just mostly Dobby, he's really quite a nutter. . ."

"House-Elves?" Legolawen asked, clearly puzzled now. Then she laughed – "Oh, no, I am speaking of the High Elves . . . my father, Legolas – even _I_ am Halfelven . . ."

"Oh, right," Harry said, not understanding a word of what she was saying. He could hardly see now, his head was aching so badly. "I think I'm going to go to bed," he said blearily. Not catching Ron and Hermione's odd looks, he stumbled blindly from the Great Hall and, moments later, collapsed into bed without even undressing.

It would take him quite a while to work this out.


End file.
